


The Exceptional Spider-Man

by Silver_Warrior_Wolf



Series: Earth 5243: Spider-Man [2]
Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Earth 5243, F/M, Personal Universe - Freeform, hybrid universe, long fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-03-07 18:33:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 54,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13440759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silver_Warrior_Wolf/pseuds/Silver_Warrior_Wolf
Summary: After escaping from a harrowing experience, Spider-Man finds himself struggling to survive and thrive in a world that has moved on without him. He will work, fight, and struggle to rebuild a life of his own.Follows Fallout, but you don't need to read that to understand this. It would provide context, though.





	1. Chapter 1

"Stop! Stop right there!" Spider-Man didn't bother to heed the calls of the guards as he raced along the passage halls. His heart was racing even faster than it normally did, as he knew that even a moment's hesitation would mean a one-way ticket back into that cell, and that was the last thing he wanted.

 _Besides,_ he reminded himself as he rounded a corner. _Just a few more feet and you're home-free._

As he made it around the bend, he saw that a blockade had already been put in place to halt his progress. It was composed of several hurdles, some armed guards, and a sheet of Plexiglas over the exit way. _No problem_ , he tried to comfort himself. _You've made it this far, after all._

When he didn't stop, the guards opened fire on him. He was able to dodge the bullets without too much trouble, thanks to his spider-sense, but having to deal with so many at once did slow him down a bit.

Thankfully, the closer he got, the less the guards fired. _Guess they don't want to risk a ricochet,_ he hypothesized. _More to my advantage._

When he reached the blockade, he leapt over the hurdles with ease, knocking one of the guards over and unconscious with the side of his arm as he did so. He then kicked the other in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him and allowing him to snatch the gun away.

Once he had the weapon in his hands, he turned it to the Plexiglas and opened fire, shattering it. _And that's one good use for these things,_ he thought as he tossed the weapon aside.

Racing through the new opening, he dodged into the small room that had been blocked. Inside were hundreds of locked cabinets, but Spider-Man was only interested in one, and thankfully, his spider-sense was once again able to guide him right to the one he needed.

It was about a story up, but that didn't mean anything to someone who could crawl on walls. He scaled up to the box and tore out the lock before opening it up.

Nestled inside were exactly what he was looking for: a belt with loaded with web cartridges and a small pouch of spider-tracers.

Thanking his lucky stars that these were still here, he hooked the belt around his waist, and clipped a few of the cartridges into his web-shooters into place. He was ready to go.

He was just in time, too, as at that very moment, more guards shot into the room and opened fire on him. Spidey didn't waste a moment, crawling up the wall to the roof, he reached one of the windows at the top. Smashing it open, he crawled out into the night.

Once he made it out, he was greeted by a blast of cold wind. _Geez, I guess it's not summer out here,_ he thought, now thoroughly upset that his costume wasn't fully insulated. _Not that I have time to look for a jacket, though._

He crawled around the side of the building, looking around for any mode of escape. He knew he didn't have much time, since the searchers in the building would find some way to reach him, even out here, if he waited too long.

Thankfully, help came in the form of a boat whistle. Not waiting for a moment, he leapt down to the nearest ledge, which lead him down to what he could tell was a body of water, probably the sea or ocean by the smell of it. Once there, he could see a ferry moving out, just within webbing distance.

Backing up, he got a running start and leapt out. His jump took him just far enough to shoot out a web, which latched right on to the side of the boat.

Unfortunately, it also meant he landed in the water and was pulled along behind the boat from there. _Ah! Cold!_ he thought. _Oh, this is so much colder than the wind!_

Still, he had made it away from his pursuers. By the time he had pulled himself up the side of the ferry and taken shelter among some of the cars, he was far away from the facility.

"Well, Peter, you're home free, now," he told himself as he huddled down to try to shield himself from the cold.

* * *

At the facility, a number of guards stood in the ruined lock box room, looking up at boss. He was using a lift to examine the destroyed lock-box. "He got it all," the man said, and there was a tone of anger in his voice. "You let your guard down, and he was able to get out and take everything we had left."

"We're sorry, sir," the head of the guards said. "We were certain that he had been made completely complacent."

"Well, he _hadn't_ now, had he?" the boss asked. "Just go call in the hunters. They should be able to bring him in without much difficulty. Without any other supplies then what he took, he shouldn't be strong enough to escape a second time." The guards threw a salute and hurried out, leaving the man alone with his thoughts.

Turning back to the lock box, the man frowned. "Everything's been taken from you, Parker. All you have is your name. Where can you run to now?"

* * *

It was now Thursday, September 8, 2067. Or, at least, that was the calendar at the back of the charity department store read.

It had been fortunate for Peter that this store had even been here. When the ferry had pulled into the dock, he had been able to sneak off of it and into the town, which was a small town that looked rather touristy in nature. The first thought on his mind at that point was covering over his costume, which would mark him as different in a moment if he was seen.

He snuck into the shop in early morning through an unlocked window and made quick work of pulling on a long-sleeved button-down shirt, a sweat shirt, jacket, pair of jeans, and shoes over his costume, all of which he found in the unsorted donation pile. Unfortunately, socks weren't available, but he'd have to worry about that later.

Once he had changed, he tucked the mask and web shooters into the hand-warmer pocket of the sweatshirt. Unfortunately, his spider-sense then went off, warning him there was someone behind him.

"Hey, buddy, what do you think you're doing here?" Peter turned at the question to see a man standing at the entrance of the store.

"Oh, uh, sorry," Peter said, his mind racing to come up with a reasonable response. "I'm sort of, uh, lost, and I wanted to figure out where I am."

"Lost?" The man frowned. "How do you get lost out here? There's nothing around until you reach the city."

"Just my luck, I guess," Peter replied, giving an awkward laugh. "So, where am I? What town am I in, I mean?"

The man shrugged and rolled his eyes. "You're in Joycelyn, New York, about five hours outside of New York City. How you could have gotten here from there without noticing is beyond me."

Hearing the comment, Peter tilted his head in confusion. "Wait a minute, how do you know I'm from NYC?"

The man gave a deadpan expression. "Really? You're going to ask that in that Queens accent of yours? Besides, how did you even get in here? We're still closed."

Peter blanched, realizing the window he had gotten in by was a good two stories up. He scanned behind him and noticed, to his relief, something that would help with his cover story. "The back door is unlocked."

Glancing over Peter's shoulder, he noticed that was the case. "Darn it, Margery always leaves that door open. I'll have to talk to her about that." Turning to Peter, he scowled. "Just get out of here, kid, before I call in the cops on trespassing charges."

"Yes, sir," Peter replied, shoving his hands into his pockets and hurried out into the streets, where some sort of fall festival was going on.

 _So, Pete,_ he thought to himself as he wandered out into the town, _time to get back to Queens. Which leaves me with one very important question: how am I going to get there?_

As he was wandering, he felt a sharp twinge in his stomach. _And what am I going to eat in the meanwhile,_ he added. In all the excitement of his escape, the adrenaline rush had caused him to forget that he hadn't eaten for ages. Now that he could somewhat relax, however, his stomach decided to sharply remind him of that fact.

The fact that there was a festival going on didn't help. Smells of popcorn, funnel cakes, corn dogs, and other fair foods drifted in the air, exacerbating his already intense hunger. Almost instinctively, he drifted from food stand to food stand, only to tear himself away because of his lack of money.

"I've got to find something to take my mind off of this," he muttered quietly to himself. "At least until I can get some cash."

"Help! Help me!" Peter turned around in an instant when he heard the cry. A distance off, he could see a man rushing away from one of the stands right towards him, holding goods he had stolen in one arm and a gun in the other. An old man, who had been the stand owner, was the one who had called out.

"Ask and you shall receive," Peter commented to himself. He didn't have his costume or time to put on his mask, so he'd have to make this discrete. Slipping his hands into his sweatshirt pocket, he clipped one of the web-shooters on, backed into a clothes stand so no one would see him, and utilizing his spider-sense, shot a glob of webbing right where the thief was about to step.

The trick worked perfectly. As soon as the thief stepped into the mass of webbing, his foot became trapped, and he face planted on the sidewalk. While he was on the ground, Peter hurried out, trying to look as if he were in a hurry, and kicked the now fallen gun out of its owner's reach.

It still took a while for the police to arrive, but the thief was trapped fast, and would be trapped until that webbing dissolved. Peter couldn't exactly remember how long that was, but an hour sounded about right.

Feeling proud of himself, Peter hooked around and hid back in the clothes stand, trying not to see too interested in what happened but still wanting to see the results of his handiwork. He was glad he did so, as it was even better than he could have expected.

In an effort to escape the webbing, the thief had started tearing at it with his bare hands. This, however, had only succeeded in trapping him by his hands as well as his feet, meaning that until the police would arrive, he'd be trapped in a hunched over, semi-fetal position.

Seeing this, Peter couldn't help but smother a laugh. It was always amusing when the bad guy got themselves caught in an awkward position trying to escape.

"See anything you like, Tiger?" Peter stood up in shock when he realized someone was speaking to him. He spun around and saw that it was a black girl around his own age. She was strikingly pretty, with dark hair that turned bright red as it went down her back.

"Uh, what?" he asked, his mind racing for something, anything, better to say.

The girl seemed to ignore this faux-pas in favor of reinstating her question. "You seemed to be looking pretty intently at the cloths," she said, pointing out the rack he had been previously hiding behind. "See anything you like?"

"Oh, oh, yeah," Peter stumbled out quickly. "I'm really interested in…uh…" He glanced back at the rack to find out what it was they were talking about. "…bridesmaid's dresses." His face flushed with embarrassment and he internally wished that, for once, he could have been near something that would have made a bit more sense. "They're really well made," he finished, trying to come up with an answer that wouldn't result in the girl judging him in some way.

The girl gave a laugh. "Why thank you! It took me and my partner forever to work on those."

"Wait? You made these?" Peter replied, glancing back at the work. Despite his comment being mostly a cover, they really _were_ well made, and he had assumed they were factory made.

"Yep, those are Watson & Stacy exclusive, alright," the girl replied, flashing a grin. "Took me and my her about a full three days to sew each of them. The details, you see. Even with an embroidery machine, they take ages. Those were an order, so the buyer will be coming to pick those up soon, and I like to have already-finished products out so people can see what they'll get when they order. It lets me kill two birds with one stone." She held out her hand to him. "I'm Mary Jane Watson, by the way. Interested in anything you see?"

"Peter," he replied, shaking her hand. "And, no, I'm kind of…broke at the moment." At that moment, his stomach let out a loud growl, firmly reminding him that he _still_ had not had anything to eat. "And looking for free food, I guess," he said, feeling another blush creep over his face.

Mary Jane nodded. "I see. It's almost my lunch, too. If you wait a little while, the buyer should come around here, and you can join me at that restaurant." She pointed out a burger shop a distance off.

The offer was tempting, but Peter's lack of funds still weighed heavy on him. "Thank, but I can't afford it."

"No worries, it's my treat," she replied, giving him a wink.

He was going to continue arguing, but his stomach let out another audible growl, effectively ending the conversation. "Alright, sounds good."

She flashed a smile at him. "See you there, Tiger."

* * *

"Come on, where are you," Trapster muttered to himself. The mercenary was currently seated in a van a small town festival, keeping a watch on the people moving around. He knew his mission well, and it was supposed to be incredibly simple. Just some kid who got out of containment in the high-level facility, so he got sent out to round the kid up. Simple as that.

So then why hadn't the kid made an appearance?

Trapster groaned to himself before turning to look at the kid's file. Maybe things would have moved along faster if the kid, Peter Parker, actually had some sort of identifying feature. As it was, he was just about as generic as possible. A brown haired, brown eyed white kid around twenty years old, average height and somewhat underweight for his size, but not to a degree that it was noticeable. Of course, he was Spider-Man, but with that sort of wanted-file, the kid would have to be nuts to go out in that costume for long.

"Of course that's the sort of target who's practically invisible in suburbia," Trapster groaned to himself. "Wonder why they didn't get Cassidy to take this one."

He leaned back, wondering whether or not it would be safe to take a nap, when he spotted something. It wasn't much, just some kid in a green sweatshirt crouched behind a row of dresses. However, it was enough for Trapster to get a good look at his face. Sure enough, it was the target.

Grinning to himself, he reached back for the trapping polymer gun. It was a long, thin weapon, and had a holster at the side of his pants where it could stay hidden. In his pocket, he tucked away a smaller gun that had a canister of a liquid and a syringe attached. He would have to keep these hidden until he could lure the kid away from any witnesses, but it would be easy from there.

* * *

Just as Mary Jane had predicted, it didn't take too long for her buyer showed up. Once she had arrived, the two of them set to talking about how the payment was going to be made and how transportation was going to work.

While they talked, Peter waited by a fountain that had been nearby. The police were, by now, finishing getting the still webbed-up thief off to the station, and Peter couldn't help but feel a sense of pride as he watched.

He didn't have too much time to enjoy the moment, as his spider-sense when off without warning. Turning his head, he scanned the area for the approaching threat.

The threat revealed himself in an unexpected form. An unassuming looking man was coming up to him. "Hey, buddy, can you help a guy out?" he called out. "My car got a flat and I'll need to change the tire. Mind lending a hand?"

Something about this man was making Peter's spider sense go off like crazy, but he tried to hide it. "Actually, my friend's waiting for me," he said quickly, "and I don't have a phone, but maybe if you'd-"

"Oh, it won't take long," the man replied, cutting Peter off and seizing him by the shoulder.

The moment the man placed a hand on him, Peter's spider-sense intensified, and he got the feeling that if he didn't get away right now, he'd be in major danger. Trying not to use too much of his strength, he jerked away and got up, backing up a few steps in the process.

Unfortunately, this didn't deter the newcomer, who followed him. He dropped his voice so low that it was hard to hear with the noise of the festival, but Peter received the message loud and clear. "Alright, kid, I tried to do this the nice way, but you're coming with me, one way or another."

Peter took off running before the message was finished. He wasn't sure why the man was after him, or what he wanted to do with him, but he doubted it was anything good. Not wanting to wait around and find out the specifics, he hurried as fast as his feet would take him and didn't bother to look back.

As he ran, he could hear the man swearing at him, as well as Mary Jane calling out to him. He felt a small twinge of guilt for running off without responding to her, but it wasn't enough to make him stop running. _I hope she doesn't think too badly of me,_ he couldn't help but think, _but I'd rather disappoint her than go with Mr. Grabby-Mitts over there._

Dodging down an alleyway, Peter paused for a moment to catch his breath. As he paused, he felt another twinge in his stomach, this time from hunger again. _Oh, come on! Not now!_ he thought with annoyance as the feeling came over him.

Looking both ways, he made certain that no one was looking. When he was sure no one was there, he took off his shoes as fast as he could, tied the laces together, and flung them over his shoulders as he started scaling one of the walls.

He was about halfway up when his spider-sense went off again, telling him to dodge to the right. He obeyed, and moved out of the way just in time for a glob of adhesive to land right where he had been. Looking over his shoulder, he saw the man standing on the ground beneath him, aiming some sort of weapon at him. _Great, so he's prepared._

Peter didn't slow down for a moment. Moving up the wall, he avoided two more shots, making it up on to the roof before another shot could zip above his head. Once he was up, he allowed himself to slump against the roof's edge and take a breath.

As soon as he took a pause, his stomach let out another growl. "Can you just keep quiet for now?" he scowled to himself. "We're in a life or death situation here!"

Taking a chance, Peter edged up and glanced down to the alleyway he had just emerged from. It was completely empty, and other than the globs of glue that were stuck to the side of the building, there was no sign anyone had ever been there.

 _Good news/bad new moment,_ Peter thought to himself. _Good news: that creep's not making pot-shots at me anymore. Bad news, that's probably because he's making his way up here right now. I'd better get out of here before he finds me._

Scanning around to make sure no was looking, he took a few steps back and leapt from the roof to the one nearby. He attempted to land on his feet, but mid-jump, a wave of dizziness overcame him, and as soon as he came in contact with the roof, he tumbled over.

As he lay on his side, another wave came again, along with another twinge from his stomach. _Great, now my hunger's messing with my head. Once I've gotten away, I'll have to dig up something to eat, even if it's out of a dumpster._ He made a face, not pleased with the thought of eating garbage, but even less happy with the thought of the glue-gun wielding creep catching up to him.

As he pulled himself back up to his feet, he was only just able to dodge as another glue-blast zipped past his head. Just as he had assumed, the man had run through the first building to come after him, and was now standing, aiming his weapon. "Get back here!" he snarled.

"Why don't you come here and get me yourself?" Peter replied. "After all, I'm sure there's some granny who's going to want her glue-gun back for scrap-booking club."

Another blast was shot at him, and Peter was forced to back up again to avoid the shot, this time up to the far wall. "Laugh all you want, Parker, but this little tool's going to be all I need to bring you in."

He shot again, and Peter jumped forward to miss it, but another wave of dizziness overcame him and he fell to his knees…right into a puddle of the glue from earlier. Feeling himself stuck in the goop, he desperately looked for something to pull himself free with. Unfortunately, nothing made itself available, and he was firmly stuck.

It appeared that the pursuer was aware he had trapped his quarry, too, as he gave a grin when he saw Peter fall and fail to get up. Hurrying back to the door, he rushed over, certain that he had made the catch.

Peter knew well he had only a short amount of time to escape, so he searched for anything that might be of assistance. He didn't dare try to tear at the glue with his hands, as he could remember just how well that worked out for the thief from before. That meant that he'd need to find something else to pull himself free

Without any other option, he shot out a web line to the far wall. It latched on, and hoping that the web and the wall were made of firmer stuff than the glue, he began to try to pull himself free.

It was a struggle, and it took a while, but his efforts were not in vain. He was rewarded for his struggle when, with a sudden jerk, he tore himself free of his entrapment.

When he was free, however, he found that it wasn't the glue that had given way, but his pants. He had torn himself out of them completely, leaving the lower half of his costume completely exposed.

 _So much for those new clothes,_ he thought to himself. _This_ _might be my only chance of escape._ He made quick work of removing the sweatshirt and button-down. Once that was done, he pulled his mask on.

Peter finished this just in time, as once the mask was on, his spider-sense went off. He was only just able leap down the side of the building and start crawling down when his pursuer caught up. Another glob of glue shot by his head, but he leapt over and clung to the new building. "You're going to have to do better than that, Granny!" Spider-Man called out before shooting out a web and swinging off. He could hear the man swearing in his direction, but he didn't bother with responding. All that mattered now was escape.

Unfortunately, escape was going to be difficult. _The buildings keep getting lower and lower the further I move,_ he thought in dismay. _I might as well be walking with how many single story buildings there are here._

As he moved on, he soon discovered there was another problem as well. "Look!" he heard a woman shriek. "It's him! It's Spider-Man!"

 _They know about me here?_ Spider-Man couldn't help but think. "I'm sorry," he said aloud. "I don't have any time for autographs."

"Get away from here, you menace!" a man yelled. He grabbed a rock and flung it at Spidey, and he was soon joined by others. Before long, everyone was either fleeing in terror or hurling debris and insults at him.

"Murderer!"

"Monster!"

"Criminal!"

"Hey! What did I do?" Spider-Man asked, leaping out of the way of the hurled debris. "Doesn't anyone have any love for the Web-Head?"

He was forced to crawl along the roof to escape from the crowd, where he had to duck into an alleyway. "Geez, between Captain Glue-Gun and the angry mob, I might not make it out of here in one piece." He was cut off as his stomach grumbled again. "And I still haven't eaten. Really, can't I catch one break?"

"Hey, Spidey! Over here!" he heard Mary Jane call out to him. He searched around the alley and saw her standing at one end of the alley. She was seated in a beat-up blue pickup truck, and was motioning for him to come. "Come on!"

Not stopping to question how she had found him, Spider-Man hurried over and slipped into the passenger seat. "Thanks for the assist Ma-er, ma'am."

"No need to keep up pretenses, Pete," she replied handing him a new sweater. "Also, I recommend you take that mask off and put this on. I'd rather not have my windows broken."

"Wait, how do you know who I am?" he asked, pulling his mask off ask he spoke.

"Same reason I'm _not_ throwing bricks at you," she said. "I saw you climb up that wall without your mask when that creep chased you. It wasn't hard to put the pieces together from there."

That still left so many question which raced through his mind as he got the sweater on. "Wait, so why _were_ they throwing stuff at me? What did I do to deserve that?"

She picked up her phone and handed it to him. "Here. This should catch you up while we go. I warn you, I will have questions for you over lunch." Without another word, she moved the truck into gear and hurried off.

Not wanting to distract her as she drove, he turned to phone. It was opened to a _Bugle Media_ webpage. A picture of a younger Peter was staring out back at him and the article's headline was written across the top in bold lettering: **16-Year-Old Queens Boy Murdered by Spider-Man.**

To be continued…


	2. Chapter 2

"Feeling better?" Mary Jane asked. She and Peter were now seated in a restaurant, having thankfully lost the pursuers along the way. She had allowed him to recover his thoughts and eat before she started her interrogation, but it was clear to him that she was eager to start.

"Physically? Yeah," he replied, keeping his voice low as he answered. "I'm not hungry anymore and no one's throwing rocks at me, which is an improvement. Thanks for the spare clothes, but the way."

"No problem," she replied. "Sorry they're a bit big."

He laughed and gave a shrug. "I guess I'm a bit small."

Mary Jane took a breath, making sure no one was paying attention to them before starting. "Alright, considering what you and I both know, unless there was some convoluted and bungled suicide scheme, there's no way you were murdered by Spider-Man. So, why does everyone think you were?"

He gave a low laugh. "You'll laugh at me."

She gave him a deadpan look. "Don't tell me you have amnesia."

"When you say it like that, it sounds like a bad comic book plot," he replied with a laugh. "No, I wouldn't say that. I have memories, par say, but the last four years are real messed up, and that article came right out of nowhere."

"So, you need to catch up with time, huh?" Mary Jane rested her chin in her hands, and her gaze seemed to intensify.

Peter avoided her look, staring down on his fourth basket of endless chicken wings instead. "You think I'm crazy, don't you?"

"I've already seen you get chased up a wall by a guy with a glue-launching gun and have figured out you're Peter Parker, the guy murdered four years ago by his own alter ego," she replied, giving him a smile. "I've already accepted that crazy's part of the bargain."

He sighed. "Where should I begin?"

"I hear the beginning's a pretty good place to start," she stated.

Peter gnawed on one of the chicken bones, eager to get the last scraps of meat off, before starting. "That's kind of rough. I can remember before these goons got me. I can remember my aunt and uncle, but I thought they were both dead, killed in different incidences. According to the article, though, my aunt survived the car wreck, so I was wrong there. After the wreck, I was taken to this weird guy, Miles Warren, who told me I'm some super-human project. Some guy called the Boss had me grabbed off the streets and wanted Warren to train me to be the ultimate human, the whole nine yards."

"And you weren't into that?" Mary Jane asked.

Peter laughed. "Do I look like the kind of guy who could be the ultimate human, even if I wanted to be?" He let out a dry laugh.

"Not that he listened," he continued, "Early on, he just tried to convince me. Offer me the chance to be trained, to be the ultimate life if I just would work with him, and I turned him down at every attempt. It was all too pretentious to me." He gave a small chuckle. "I hope this doesn't sound insincere or something, but all that fame and glory stuff just isn't attractive to me. Because of my powers, I have a responsibility to defend others, but I'd rather keep that private and just have a normal life, out of mask."

"I could see wanting that," Mary Jane replied. "Though I'm guessing Mr. Warren couldn't."

"No, he couldn't." Peter paused for a moment, the memory sinking in. "When I turned him down too many times, and didn't take too well to 'training sessions,' said sessions would get worse. I would try to escape, but I'd be caught and I'd be killed. Or almost killed."

"Wait, almost killed?" she asked. She looked him over. "What happened?"

"I'm not totally sure, but the first time I escaped, I was shot," he explained. "I'm not sure what exactly happened after that, but I was certain I was dead. When I survived, Warren decided to try to find out if anything actually could kill me. It was different every time, but it was always something. He also seemed to think it was the only way to keep me from running away. He used water, fire, knives, lasers, different types bullets." He gave a dry chuckle. "I'd almost say he was trying to make me afraid of everything around me so I'd cooperate with him."

"That sounds awful," Mary Jane commented.

"It was." Peter sighed and closed his eyes. He stayed silent for a moment before going on. "That went on for four years, until what I think was just last week. I hadn't attempted anything for a while, so Warren brought me in, told me they'd give me a second chance. I played along, but only to get the opportunity to escape. They fell for it, hook, line, and sinker. I got out of the holding cell when they were preparing to transport me just last night, and I got out and never looked back."

"Still," he continued, "it's all very confusing. I don't remember how Warren and his cronies got me after the wreck in the first place, and the article doesn't help, since I couldn't have kidnapped myself." He placed his head in his hands. "It's all so confusing."

"Hey, it'll be alright," Mary Jane said, reaching over and giving his hand a squeeze. "You'll figure out what's going on, and you'll stay out of their grasp until you do."

"Thanks," he said with a sigh. He shuddered as his mind went back to his experiences. "They started talking about the things they wanted to do to me. To prepare me. I think they want to make me some sort of killer, and I don't want to be one."

"And you won't." There was firmness to Mary Jane's voice that was somewhat unexpected. "Even if they got ahold of you again, which they won't, you can and have resisted them."

"True…" he muttered. Then he looked up and turned to her. "Thanks for the help, but I've got to get going. I've got to find some way to make it to Queens and find my aunt."

"Too true," she nodded, getting up after scanning a card to pay for their meal. "It is a pretty long drive back, so we'd better get a move on."

"We?" he asked, somewhat surprised at her forward volunteering.

In response, she laughed. "Of course, we! You don't think I'd leave you to walk all that way when I have a truck, do you?"

Peter cocked his head and gave her a quizzical look. "Why are you so interested in helping me? We only just met."

She gave him a smile and patted him on the cheek. "Guess I just don't want to miss out on helping a fellow runaway. Besides, I like you, Tiger, and I don't want to think of what would happen if you got caught again."

He was slightly confused by her statement of a "fellow runaway," but she did have a point about him attempting to walk all the way to NYC. Since she was offering to give him a lift, and his spider-sense didn't go off around her, he decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Still, her mentioning of being a runaway did unnerve him. He hoped whatever trouble she was running away from, it was not too bad or that she was in any sort of danger.

"You lost him?!" The sound of anger in the boss' voice was clear to hear. "He's one kid! How could you have lost him?!"

"It's not my fault he tore away," Trapster said as quickly as he could. "He was wearing that stinking costume you left him underneath, so he escaped the glue. Then he went into a populated area, so I couldn't chase him there!"

"You could have thought with your head instead of your trigger finger and tagged him," the boss replied. "At least then you could have tracked him down instead of wondering where he got off to."

"Well, if that's so brilliant, why didn't you tag him when you had him on the operating table? You know, before Warren took him in the first place?" Trapster responded.

"Shut up, you imbecilic cretin!" The snarl that tore itself from the boss' throat was enough to stun Trapster into silence. "This is the third time you've let a target get away from you like that! We're still missing those samples that burglar stole, and this is the first trace of Warren in three years! You can consider yourself demoted back to guard duty."

"Guard duty!?" Trapster stammered out once he figured out what was being said. "But, sir, I'm-"

"A miserable failure of a man, I know," the boss said with a sneer. "Return your equipment as soon as possible. I'll send Demetri Kravinoff out on the Parker case. His work is a bit complicated, but I know he'll actually finish the job. That's more than I can say for you." With that, the screen flashed to black.

When the conversation was over, Trapster was seething. This was his job, and he knew he could finish it. True, he hadn't found that woman who stole those important samples…and Warren did get away, not only with the kid but the other chimera work, too…but those were beside the point! He could finish a mission, and he didn't need anyone else to pick up the pieces. He'd bring the kid in himself.

Picking up the file he had previously been given. Going over the information, he took note of the place the kid had been taken from: Queens, New York City.

"Of course, the kid had to be from one of the biggest cities in the world," he grumbled to himself. "Still, I'll bet he's headed that way, and he can't have gotten too far away."

"Well, Peter, are you going to work with us this time? All you have to do is tell us what you are, and you can get out." Peter didn't reply, not wanting to give his captors the satisfaction of knowing they were getting to him. Instead, he struggled with the bindings at his wrists, wishing his could tear himself free, without answering.

The man who had previously spoken did not seem content with this. "Answer me," he said in a low voice that probably meant to sound enticing, but was menacing none the less. "It's that easy.

Peter said something in response, but the words were so mumbley that even he couldn't quite make them out. Whatever it was, his captors didn't like it. "That's the wrong answer," the man said, still acting calm. He raised a remote and pressed a button.

In a moment, Peter felt volts of electricity pass through him. He let out a cry and slumped over, but the pain continued. He wished he'd just pass out from the experience, but he wasn't so lucky.

Eventually, the man shut the device off, and the pain receded, leaving only a dull vibrating in its place. His captor then casually wandered over to the prisoner, and pulled his head up by the hair so he was forced to look at the man in the face. Peter couldn't make out the details of the face, except for the eyes, which were a hard, icy blue. "Now, Peter, you just need to answer the question right," the man stated. "Do you want a muffin or sausage biscuit?"

"What?" Peter asked. He blinked and shook his head, and in a moment, he realized he had been dozing off.

He wasn't tied up, or in a lab, and there was no man to be seen. Instead, he was sitting in the passenger seat of Mary Jane's truck, and then had pulled into a drive-thru restaurant to pick up breakfast. "I said, do you want a muffin or a sausage biscuit," Mary Jane asked again. "I'm afraid it's all I can afford until we get into the city."

"Oh, uh, the biscuit," he said. He was still shaking off the vestiges of the dream, so he was only half-aware of it when she turned back to complete the order.

Once the order was placed, she pulled into the designated parking space as they waited for their order. "You alright?" she asked. "You started muttering a bit back there."

"Just a bad dream," he said quickly. He wasn't eager to talk about the contents, none the less with someone who he had just met.

Thankfully, Mary Jane didn't seem interested in pressing the point. "So, we're about an hour outside the city," she said. "Have you looked up your aunt's address?"

"Yeah," he replied with a nod. "We're going to Forest Hills. I'll just look up the directory when we make it back. Shouldn't be too hard to find May Parker."

There came a knock at the driver side window as one of the employees came out with their food. As Mary Jane opened up the window to take the food, Peter's spider-sense gave a faint buzz.

Confused as to what was setting it off, he scanned the restaurant parking lot until he spotted it. It was an unmarked white van, which under most circumstances wouldn't have caught his attention. However, he could see the driver quite clearly. In an instant, he undid his seatbelt and slumped to the ground in front of the seat.

"So here's your-what are you doing?" Mary Jane asked when she turned to him, surprised both at his action and the fact that he actually fit down there.

"Mr. Glue-Gun is back," Peter replied, motioning up to the window. "I can't let him see me."

Craning her neck out, she spotted the van. "I see it. Looks like we'll have to eat at another stop."

She turned the car to leave the fast food place, but before she could get out, the man got out of the van and came over to them. Realizing she couldn't bolt without attracting attention, she reached into the back, grabbed a fistful of material, and tossed it over Peter. "Just stay quiet," she warned.

The man wandered over to the truck and tapped on the window, which Mary Jane reluctantly rolled down. "Can I help you?" she asked.

"I'm looking for my son, Peter," the man replied. "He's a teen, around this tall, brown hair, brown eyes. He's got psychological issues, so he might have spouted some crazy stories, but I assure you, he's not well. I need to bring him home. You haven't happened to see him, have you?"

Mary Jane gave an overly sugary smile before answering. "No, sir, I can't say I've seen any mentally ill teens around here. Now, if you don't mind, I'm in a bit of a hurry…"

"Just, here's my number," the man said, offering her a card. "If you see anyone…"

The man trailed off, his eyes locked on something. Realizing what happened, Mary Jane turned and looked too, and saw in an instant what it was that caught his attention.

In all the confusion of the hiding, both she and Peter completely forgot the Spider-Man mask was sitting in an open compartment in the door, and was clearly visible.

Without wasting a moment, Mary Jane hit the gas, tearing away from the man in an instant. Without pausing a moment at the stop sign outside the restaurant, she tore away down any road that would take them away from the man, who would be at the disadvantage of having to return to his car.

Turning down a side road, she pulled off into an empty alleyway and hid. "Geez, Tiger," she said, turning to Peter once they were holding still. "You know some really persistent people."

"I'm so sorry about that," he replied. As soon as he could wiggle free from his previous hiding place, he started taking off the clothing Mary Jane had loaned him, revealing the Spider-Man costume beneath. "He's not going to leave me alone unless I make him stop. I've got to go deal with him myself. You go on, I'll find my own way once this is finished."

"Hey, I told you I'd help you out, and I meant it," she replied with a smile.

Peter shook his head before donning his mask. "I can't let you put yourself in danger because of me."

"That nutjob already saw my face, which means it's likely whoever he's working for will know about me, too," she replied with a deadpan look. "It's a bit late for chivalrous abandonment."

Spider-Man paused when he heard this. "Alright, then," he said, looking somewhat shamefaced even through the mask. "Just, try to stay hidden until I'm finished with this. I don't know how dangerous he is."

Mary Jane nodded, giving a smirk. "Go get 'im, Tiger."

Trapster swore under his breath as he wandered through the streets of the town. He had parked the van when he came to the cluster of buildings where the kids had hidden, and he supposed it would be easier to take them by surprise on foot. Of course that girl was on the kid's side; they were about the same age. He wouldn't be surprised if he'd already spun some sob-story about abuse to get anything he wanted from her.

To make matters worse, that meant he'd have transportation and thus, be harder to find. Trapster sword again. "%$# &^ kid," he scowled. "Don't see why I couldn't have just shot 'im back on that roof. It would have made things so much easier."

"Aww, but where's the fun in that?" Trapster turned to see Spider-Man clinging to the side of a nearby building. "If you had done that, then how would we be carrying out this little game of hide 'n' seek right now?"

He aimed his gun at the Wall Crawler, but Spider-Man acted first, webbing up the nozzle. The Web-Head clicked his tongue in disapproval. "Now, now, didn't your mommy ever tell you it's not nice to point things at people?"

Scowling, Trapster attempted to fire the gun regardless of the web. The burst came at such a rate that it knocked the blockage off, but it also caused the glue to come out at a slow pour rather than a fire. This clogged the gun further, making it harder to work with. "#$^%#!" the mook muttered. "Come on, work you &^%$ thing!"

Spider-Man took his opportunity, webbing up the gun and snatching it away. "Ah-ah-ah," he said, shaking his head as he snatched it away. "If you can't play nice with this, I'm afraid I can't let you play with it at all." Taking the weapon, he snapped it in two. "There. Now, how about we set you up for a nice little meet and greet with the police?"

"As if you really think you could take me," Trapster responded with a snarl, and he reached into his coat for the other weapon.

Seeing his motion, Spider-Man leapt down. "No, you don't," he said, and prepared to shoot out another web to catch the weapon. He was rewarded with a disappointing 'pfft,' and he realized that his webbing cartridge was empty on that side.

Not wanting to waste webbing from the other shooter, he reached out and attempted to just snatch the gun away. Unfortunately, that was exactly what Trapster wanted him to do, and the moment Spider-Man was in arm's reach, he pulled syringe out and attempted to plunge it into the hero's arm.

The spider-sense went off, but only barely in time. Spider-Man was still grazed by the weapon, injecting one third of the weapon's formula into his bloodstream.

He already felt woozy a moment after the hit, and it got worse by the minute. "What did you do?" he muttered, grabbing his head. "What the heck is that stuff?"

Trapster grinned. "Now, now, do you really think we'd hold on to you without figuring out some way of keeping you in check?" He laughed. "Once the rest of this is in you, you won't be able to move for days. Now you're going to help me show the Big Man my real skills."

Realizing the real danger he was in, Spider-Man attempted to shake off the effects of the serum and get away. However, his attempt was futile, and despite the effort to flee, he was caught in a moment.

The Trapster lunged out and caught the mask, ripping it off of Peter's head. The sudden wave of bright light caught the victim off guard, further incapacitating him.

Grinning down at his prey, Trapster brandished the needle. "Just one shot of this, and-"

"Hey, sir?" a woman asked, tapping Trapster on the shoulder. The mook turned, just to get a face full of mace.

"Come on," Mary Jane said, rushing past the temporarily blinded Trapster and grabbing Peter by the arm. "Let's move."

"Mary Jane?" Peter asked, still somewhat in a daze from the serum. "I thought you were getting out of here."

"No, I said I'd try to stay hidden," she corrected, "which I did, until I saw the nice spot you'd gotten yourself into."

"It would have gone better, if this dang cartridge hadn't run out," he replied.

"Cartridge?" she asked. "Look, you can explain that later. Right now-" She was cut off as Peter sprang ahead, jumping down and pulling her along with him, just as a bullet whizzed over their heads.

Behind them, Trapster had recovered from the mace and had pulled out a gun. Training the weapon on Mary Jane, he prepared to shoot again.

Peter's spider-sense acted first, though, so he was able to fire off a webline using the last of the cartridge to get a shot to knock the gun out of Trapster's hand. He attempted to shoot off another web, this time to trap the villain, and was greeted with another hollow "pfft." Recognizing he was going to have to deal with the villain hand to hand, he attempted to force himself up.

However, Trapster was ready for this. He knocked the still dazed Peter aside and twisted his arms behind his back, cuffing him. "I'll deal with you in a minute."

While he had been binding Peter, Mary Jane had pulled herself up and, seeing the danger her friend was in, had sought out an abandoned board and struck Trapster across the back with it. Unfortunately, her blow wasn't nearly hard enough, and the villain was able to spin around and catch her arm. Once caught, she was quick to jam her other hand into her pocket.

Kicking at her legs, he knocked her down onto her back. Placing a knee on her stomach so she couldn't get up, he wrapped his hands around her throat. "I've had it with you, witch," he snarled at her as he tightened his grasp.

In response, she reached up with the hand that had been in her pocket and stabbed him in the wrist with her key. It didn't go very deep, but it did break the skin, so he let her go with a cry of pain. Unfortunately, it wasn't enough to dissuade him entirely. They were close to the gun, so Trapster grabbed it and prepared to shoot.

As he heard the fight, and a sense of anger and urgency filled Peter. She was his friend; currently, his only friend. She was only in this danger because she stuck her neck out for him. He couldn't let her die. He wouldn't allow it.

Using strength he had previously thought lost, he tore through the cuffs in less than a second and launched himself on Trapster, ripping him off of Mary Jane and causing the bullet to just barely miss her head. Shoving the villain back, Peter dealt a kick to the side, forcing his enemy to drop the weapon and kicking it aside. "This is between you and me," he said with a scowl. "You leave her out of it."

Trapster lunged at his opponent again, the syringe in hand once more. "What do you think you're going to do, boy?" he taunted as he swung at Peter, who effortlessly dodged. "You've got nowhere to go."

"I'm going home," Peter replied. He grabbed at the mook's hand and attempted to snatch away the syringe, but had to drop that goal to avoid a punch to the jaw. Unfortunately, his spider-sense was somewhat dulled by the serum, and thus the warning about the kick to the stomach came too late.

"What home?" Trapster laughed as his victim jumped back and attempted to recover. "You're a test subject. You've got no home. And if you go to the police, they'll either incarcerate you as a murderer or just give you back to us. The boss has connections like that. There's no safe place for you to go."

Peter scowled but said nothing, instead leaping ahead to grab the serum again. This time, Trapster swung at him with the fist holding the syringe, and while Peter was able to avoid the fist, he was not able to avoid the vial attached, which shattered, cutting him and soaking him in the serum.

"Getting, slow, Spider-Man," Trapster taunted, wrapping an arm around the younger man's neck. "Soon, you won't be able to do a thing to fight back. But I won't kill you; you're just too valuable for that. However, you've got to learn your place." He gave a cruel grin. "Maybe what I do to your little friend back there will teach you what happens when you try to be more than the freak you are."

Peter was half blinded by the mixture of blood and serum in his eyes, but he didn't need to see to have an idea of what was going to happen if he didn't recover. He set his jaw, and with a sudden movement, twisted around and delivered a punch to Trapster's stomach. His strength had been reduced to a fraction of its typical level, but he was still strong enough to break himself free from the hold, as well as send his opponent staggering back a few feet.

Trapster was thrown off by the sudden retaliation, since he expected Spider-Man to be weaker than this. However, he wasn't about to give up. Preparing himself, he pulled and punched Peter squarely on the jaw.

To his surprise, Peter didn't even flinch. Instead, he reached up, catching Trapster by the wrist. Grabbing the mook by his shirt as well, Spider-Man picked his enemy up and tossed him a distance off. Trapster landed upside down, stunning him for a moment. This gave Peter the opportunity to switch out a webbing cartridge, so when Trapster was finally able to push himself back up and on my feet, he was pinned to the wall behind him by a thick layer of webbing.

Getting close to his enemy's face, Peter scowled. "Don't. Ever. Threaten. Her."

His job done, he backed up and tried to turn, but the serum really started to take ahold of him. He staggered back and was about to fall, but he was caught. Turning, he saw Mary Jane, who had recovered and gotten back to her own feet. "Mary Jane…?" he said, and his voice was weak, as he head was swimming.

She smiled. "You did good, Tiger. Come on."

He was tired and wanted to rest, so he allowed her to half lead, half carry him back to the truck before he completely lost consciousness, supporting him on her shoulder.

That night, a new article was published on the Bugle Media front page. Known Mercenary Caught in New York Town, Trapped in Webbing. Connection to the Infamous Spider-Man Unknown at the Moment.

A suited man sat in a darkened room as he read the article. As he read, a frown spread across his face. "So, the fool decided to go against his orders and take the boy alone. He's wasted time and resources, and gotten himself caught in the end."

Another man, who was wearing a featureless white mask, sat on the other side of the suited man's desk. "He won't be able to reveal who we are, will he?" he asked in a thick Russian accent.

The suited man shook his head. "No. Petruski was a small fish. He never saw my face or knew my name. Besides, even if he tries to tell, it's the word of one mercenary against one of the four most powerful men in New York. No one would ever believe him."

"Then my mission can go on as planned?" the masked man asked.

His employer nodded. "Yes. The boy will likely make his way to Forest Hills, in Queens. He'll find nothing there; I've made certain of that. However, it's likely he'll stay there for the time being."

"If he goes there, the Chameleon will find him," the masked man said. "I'll bring him back as soon as I find him."

"I was hoping to hear that," the suited man said, and a cruel grin spread across his face.

"Uh," Peter groaned when he finally came too, sitting in the passenger seat of Mary Jane's truck and was wrapped in a blanket. "What…where am I?"

"G'morning, Sleeping Beauty," Mary Jane said. She smiled at him from the driver's seat. "Or should I say, good evening. You slept right through the day."

"Feels like it," he replied. He noticed his head was slightly sore, though not as much as he supposed it should, and he raised a hand to it and felt bandages around his crown. "I suppose this was you?"

She nodded. "It wasn't bad enough to require a hospital visit, but I supposed you wouldn't want to go around bleeding out."

"You supposed right," he said with a laugh. He tried to force himself up, but a wave of nausea and dizziness overcame him, and he slumped back in his seat. "That serum must've hit me harder than I expected," he mumbled. "I'm still feeling it now." Turning to her, he gave an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, Mary Jane, but I'm going to have to ask to infringe on you a little longer."

"No infringing here, Tiger. I happen to enjoy your company, even if it does come with a few loopies." she replied with a smile. "And call me MJ. All my friends do."

"Alright, MJ, then," he responded, leaning back. I have a friend, he couldn't help but think to himself. That was easier than I thought.

"So, on to Queens?" MJ asked.

"If it's not a problem," he responded.

She laughed and patted his cheek. "You're too sweet." With that she turned the truck onto a ramp headed into New York City.

To be continued…


	3. Chapter 3

"You ready?" MJ asked. It had taken a day or two, but Peter and MJ had finally found it. The house where he had grown up, and where his Aunt May lived. The place where, hopefully, he'd have a home again.

"A bit nervous," he admitted. "I mean, she thinks I'm dead. What if she's not happy to see me?"

"She'll be happy," MJ replied in a nonchalant way.

"How can you be so certain?" he asked.

"I certainly like to see you," she said with a smile. "I don't see why I should be any different for your aunt."

Peter took a deep breath. "I hope you're right about this." Opening the truck door, he strode out and up to the house.

As he walked up, thoughts rang through his mind. What if she doesn't believe me? What'll I say if she asks me a question I can't remember the answer to? What'll I do if she doesn't want me back? Despite these doubts, he pushed himself on, and when he reached the front door, he rang the doorbell.

There came a call of "I got it!" from within the house, and the door was opened by a little girl. Before Peter could say a word, the girl turned back into the house. "Mommy, there's a weird guy at the door!"

Weird guy? Peter couldn't help but think. He glanced down at his clothes (more spares made by MJ) which, admittedly, were about a size or two too large for him, but he didn't think he looked weird.

He didn't have too much time to think this over, however, as a woman came up to him at the door. "Hello, can I help you?" she asked.

"Uh, yeah," Peter said, feeling more awkward now than before. "I'm looking for May Parker. She doesn't happen to live here, does she?"

"May Parker," the woman repeated. "That does ring a bell…oh, I remember now! She was the lady who sold the house to us." She gave a smile. "I suppose that would explain why you came here."

"You don't happen to know where she is now?" Peter asked.

The woman shook her head. "No. We only came in contact over the house, and that was three years ago. Sorry I couldn't be of more help."

"Oh, no problem," Peter said, giving a wave and turning back to the truck.

"Wrong house?" MJ asked as he slid back into the passenger seat.

"Right house," he replied with a sigh, "wrong time. She moved about three years ago."

"I'm sorry, Pete," she said, placing a hand on his shoulder before backing up to leave. "I'm sure you'll find her."

"I'm starting to wonder if I should," he said after a moment. "I mean, I've been dead for four years, and as far as the world is concerned, it's going to stay that way. I can't risk whoever it was that took me finding me again. Maybe I just…shouldn't restart my old life at all."

"I can understand the need to start a new life," MJ commented. There was a moment of awkward silence before she spoke up again. "So, where to? It'll have to be fast, though; I'm meeting up with my partner at noon at the Daily Grind."

Peter nodded, remembering the meeting MJ had arranged with her business partner. "Just drop me off at the F.E.A.S.T. center," he said. "I've got to start looking for a job myself, and they've got a recruitment drive going on today."

"That recruitment drive you mentioned earlier?" MJ asked. "Don't those places just set up for burger flipping, mopping, and window washing jobs? Not exactly gainful employment."

"Yeah, but all a guy with no history like me could ever hope to get," Peter replied. "I mean, think about it. I'm twenty years old, don't have a high school diploma, none the less anything related to college, and won't be able to give any information and contacts other than you." He gave a dry laugh. "I'll be lucky if they don't think I'm some sort of drug addict."

"Hey, I don't have a diploma, either, and I'm doing alright," MJ replied.

"True," Peter nodded, "but I also can't sew to save my life."

"I still wonder how you got your original costume," she responded thoughtfully.

"Eventually, I got a friend to help me. Before then, it was sweats and goggles." He gave a shrug. "At least things aren't too troublesome for Spider-Man."

"I saw the articles," MJ said. "Every news station but the Bugle is going on and on about the return of Spider-Man. Maybe you should go back to selling pics to them."

"That's a no for one major reason," Peter replied. "If I go and somehow convince them that I'm not the Peter Parker that used to work there, but am instead the incredibly similar looking Peter David, then it might not be best to try to sell pictures of a wanted murderer and not tell the police."

MJ shrugged. "Just a suggestion. They used to be the number one source for Spider-Man info, but after you 'died,' they and everyone else just kind of shut up about Spider-Man for a while. I guess their loss of a photographer hit them hard. I thought that might be a good time to get back in."

"True," he replied with a laugh. "Not that one less source with the headline 'Spider-Murderer Strikes Again' is a bad thing." Peter leaned in his seat to stare at the cityscape as it passed by. "Sometimes I wonder if having a secret ID is worth daily accusations of murdering myself."

"Well," MJ said with a laugh. "There's a sentence I never thought I'd ever hear."

Soon, they pulled up in front of the Food, Emergency Aid, Shelter, and Training center, or the F.E.A.S.T. center for short. It was a large building established by local billionaire Martin Li for the purpose of philanthropic assistance. It was also where Peter had been crashing ever since he and MJ had made it back.

At the moment, the center was abuzz as the organizers prepared for that afternoon's work recruitment drive. No one really noticed the young man slip through the crowd and back to the men's dormitory, which was, too his relief, empty at the moment.

It was a large room laid out to provide shelter to about twenty men, and there were two other rooms just like it. Each bed had a small chest at the end of it for the storage of whatever the people staying there might bring, and it was to one of these that Peter hurried to.

Opening it up, he grinned at what he saw. "Thank you, Mary Jane," he muttered as he pulled out the new button down shirt and pants. A simple blue tie and a nicer pair of shoes had been tossed in as well, and they all actually fit him so, at the very least, he'd look professional during the interviews.

Before he could start getting dressed, however, a buzz came at the back of his skull. The spider-sense. Of course it happens now, he thought to himself in dismay. He turned and glanced over at the clock on the far corner of the room. At least the fair doesn't start for a full thirty minutes, and runs until three. I'll have time.

Replacing the clothes for the time being, he hurried over to the window to see what the problem was. A car was zooming ahead of several police cars, leading them on in a chase.

Well, Peter thought as he scanned the area to make sure no one was looking, then slid out the window and up the wall, at least Spider-Man's going to have something to do.

"Come on, Marco, can't you get this thing going faster?" Clayton Cole asked, his voice carrying a tone of urgency.

His partner, Flint Marco, was no appreciating the pressure. "Don't you think I'm trying?" he asked with a scowl. "Besides, it's not like you couldn't help. Why don't you try shooting out their tires?"

"Shoot out their tires?!" Cole repeated, as if dumfounded by the suggestion. "What, waste all our ammo and then have attempted cop-killer on my rep, too? No thanks."

"I didn't say kill them, just make it so they can't follow!" Marco snapped. "Besides, you've got that new tech-thingy of yours. Use that, not the bullets!"

"That 'tech-thingy' is a sonic pulse generator," Cole corrected. "Good for getting past bullet proof glass, but still hard to make precise. If I use it here, there'll be a risk that bystanders could get hurt."

"Oh, right," Marco said, having not thought of that possibility. "Well, we'll need to find some way to shake the cops."

As they raced on, there came a thunk on the roof, startling Marco into swerving the car. "What the $%^ was that?!" he asked.

He got his answer soon, as Spider-Man peered over into the driver window. "Uh, excuse me?" he asked, tapping on the window. "Could you pull over? This is my stop."

"Spider-Man!" both men exclaimed in shock.

"Yes, yes, I know," Spider-Man said, giving a nod. "There's no time for autographs, though."

As he was speaking, Marco noticed that a bridge up ahead had started to go up. "I know how to shake this bug!" he shouted. He jerked the car in the direction of the bridge with a sudden movement that did temporarily knock Spider-Man to one side.

"Are you crazy?" Cole exclaimed when he realized what he was doing. "We'll never make it!"

"We don't have to," Marco said, before opening the door and rolling out.

Cole cussed under his breath, but followed suit. He had no intention of attempting the jump.

Spider-Man also realized what was happening. "I hate it when they abandon the getaway vehicle," he muttered as he saw the bridge coming closer. Acting fast, he leapt up, shooting off webbing left and right in an attempt to get the car to slow down. He was finally able to get it to stop when it was halfway up the side. Attaching webs to either side of the car, he glued it to the bridge. "That's should hold it until the bridge comes down," he said to himself. "Now, as for the crooks…"

Turning, he could just barely glimpse Marco and Cole as they were fleeing. Shooting up, he swung over to catch up. Shooting out strands of webbing, he successfully webbed the crooks' feet to the ground. "Now, now, gentlemen," he said, "you don't really think I'd let the bad guys get away?"

"You're one to speak," Cole snarled.

"Yeah!" Marco shouted out. "At least we never killed no one, none the less a kid!"

"Ah, great, even the thugs are bringing that up," Spider-Man groaned. "Look, I'll only say this once: I did not kill Peter Parker!"

"Tell that to his family!" Cole responded. In a moment, he pulled out a pair of strange looking gloves. "I don't mind using these on you!"

"Look, there's no reason to-" Spider-Man started, but was cut off as he was struck by a sonic pulse in the chest and stomach. The blow stunned him enough that he was knocked backwards. This stunned him for a moment, but he recovered just in time to dodge a bullet from Marco.

He jumped up and prepared to continue the fight, but thankfully, by that point the police had arrived. "Freeze!" one of the officers shouted out. "Drop your weapons!" Thankfully, Marco and Cole decided to obey, finishing the fight before things could get worse.

"Alright, great timing, guys!" Spider-Man called out, but he was silenced as the same officer turned on him. "Alright, Spidey, freeze!" she called out. "You're coming in, too."

"Ah, I'm going to have to take a rain check," he said. "Good luck with those two, though." With that, he swung off, expecting to make an easy escape back to the F.E.A.S.T. Center.

To his frustration, however, that didn't seem to be the case. He had been swinging for only a few minutes when his spider-sense warned him that he was being followed. Turning, he saw the same dark-haired woman officer following him on a motorcycle. You're not giving up, are you? he thought. Well, I can't lead her right to the Peter Parker's life. Gotta find some way to shake her.

However, despite his attempt, he found the woman stubbornly following him no matter what he did. It didn't matter the side allies he went through, or even if he went roof hopping, he just couldn't seem to shake her. Jeez, is this lady part bloodhound? he couldn't help but think.

Soon, however, he was starting to run out of energy, and he was a good distance away from the Center, which meant he'd need energy if he was going to make it back. Swinging onto the side of a building, he paused and hoped this would cause his pursuer to pass by.

No such luck. "I know you're in here, Spider-Man!" she called out. "Come out and surrender now!"

I'm thinking "no," Spider-Man thought, and he had to resist the urge to say it out loud.

The woman came up wielding a weapon, but she was stopped before she could go any farther. "Detective De Wolff, that's enough," an older man said.

The officer spun around. "Captain Stacy," she greeted. "I wasn't expecting you back quite yet."

"Something came up and I wasn't able to go," the man said. "Now, as I said, you can head back to the precinct."

"With all due respect, Captain," De Wolff went on, "I've got Spider-Man cornered in there."

Captain Stacy nodded. "I know."

"We can finally bring him in," De Wolff went on. "You remember what he did."

"Parker was my daughter's friend," Stacy said. "I'm as eager to have his murder solved as you are."

"Then you'll help me-" De Wolff started, but Stacy cut her off.

"I have a plan for dealing with Spider-Man myself," he said. "Like I said, return to the precinct."

De Wolff didn't look to happy at the order, but she lowered her weapon and obeyed. "Yes, sir," she said, before returning to her motorcycle and heading off.

When she was gone, Stacy stepped into the alley. "It's okay, Spider-Man," he called out. "It's just us."

A part of Spider-Man wanted to leave, but something Stacy has said caused him to stay. Parker was my daughter's friend. It was that Captain Stacy; the one who had known Peter since he was a little boy.

Not that he was going to recklessly trust someone who would likely still consider him a murderer. "I didn't kill Peter Parker," he said, coming out of the shadows but still staying far out of reach.

"I know," Captain Stacy said. "The evidence against you, though emotionally charged, were circumstantial at best. Besides, it wouldn't make sense to see you here if you were really dead, now would it, Peter?"

Spider-Man paused. "You know?"

"As I said, you and Gwen were close," Stacy replied. "You don't think I noticed when you started acting odd. Or when Gwen started covering for you." He laughed. "It doesn't take a police detective to put those sort of pieces together. Still, I'm sure you remember what I'm talking about."

Spider-Man's stomach practically flipped when he heard what was being said. Here was not only a link to his past, but one who knew more about what happened than he could have ever expected. "Actually," he said, "I can remember, but my memory from the last four years is really messed up. Something bad happened to me, and now I'm having a hard time telling what's real and what's fiction."

"I'm sorry to hear about that, son," Stacy said. "If you'd like, I can offer you help. If you come with me, I can tell you everything I know. I can even help you to find your aunt, if you'd like."

The offer was so tempting, but something nagged at the back of Spider-Man's mind. "Not here," he said, "and not now. It would look off for a wanted 'murderer' to be accompanying a police captain."

"Agreed," Stacy said with a nod. "I'll meet up with Peter Parker, one hour from now, at the Daily Grind Café. Do you know where that is?"

Remembering the conversation he had with MJ, Spider-Man nodded. "Yes, I do. Parker will be there."

"I'll see him there, then," Stacy said, giving a grin before heading off.

Excitement in his stomach, Spider-Man hurried back to the F.E.A.S.T. Center to change his clothes. The Recruitment Drive was now far from his mind, however, as he now saw a chance of finding his past.

When he was gone, however, he did not notice Stacy watching from the shadows. In a moment, the viewer's cell phone range. Picking up, he answered. "Chameleon here," he answered, speaking in a thick accent. "Yes, I found the boy. He believes I am a figure from his past. Once I meet up with him, I will take him straight to the transports. He won't realize what is happening until it is too late."

Even though it had only been about forty minutes, Peter was sitting in the Daily Grind. His leg shook with anticipation as he waited for Captain Stacy to arrive, and even though he had ordered a drink, he barely touched it, as the tension of the wait weighed too heavily on him.

Thus, he didn't notice it when a figure came up to him. "Hey, Pete, imagine meeting you here," MJ exclaimed, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Peter practically leapt out of his skin when she touched him. "Oh, hey, MJ," he said in a hurry.

MJ smirked. "You're looking pretty tense. The recruitment drive not turn out?"

"Recruitment drive?" Peter asked. "Oh, yeah, that. I haven't gone. I found another lead. Dealing with that other search."

"Oh, that," MJ responded with a nod. "Well, I hope you don't mind if Gwen and I join you while you wait."

"Yeah, sure, go ahead," he said, hardly even noticing as he answered. He was still too anxious about his meeting.

MJ waved down a girl with bobbed blond hair pulled back by a black headband. "Hey, Gwendy, over here!" she called out. "My friend here already got us a table."

"Nice!" Gwen declared before coming over.

MJ grinned and slid into the booth seat alongside Peter. "Peter, this is my business partner, Gwen Stacy. Gwen this is Peter."

Moments ago, Gwen had been showing a similar amount of energy to MJ, but the moment she saw Peter, her expression changed. "Peter?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. "Peter, you're alive?"

"Huh?" That response shook Peter from his haze, and he recognized in an instant. "Gwen?"

In a moment, Gwen practically leapt across the table and wrapped her arms around Peter. He returned the gesture as well. "I knew you couldn't have been killed by Spider-Man because…well…you know, but when they found your clothes all torn and bloody like that…I started to lose hope."

Seeing the reaction, MJ smirked. "I take it you already know each other."

Realizing what she had just done, Gwen released Peter and leaned back in her own booth. "Sorry about that. We grew up together. He was like the brother I never had. We haven't seen each other in a while…though…because…uh…"

"Don't worry," MJ commented. "I already know about Pete's involuntary vacation."

Gwen's face grew serious. "So you were kidnapped."

"Yes, though the details surrounding it are fuzzy," Peter admitted. He looked down, somewhat ashamed of what he just had said.

Gwen nodded and took his hand. "We all missed you. Me, your aunt, the Bugle crew, and Harry." A look of sadness crossed her face. "Actually, Harry took your death pretty hard, and he ended up in a dark place for a while, but he's recovered now. Whatever happened, you can count on me to help. With your past, and with, well, the other thing." She cast a weary look at MJ. "You know. Unless you forgot that, too." She made the web-shooting gesture.

Mary Jane just smiled. "No worries. I know about the 'other thing,' too," she said, making same gesture.

"She saw me use my abilities when I was being chased," Peter explained.

"So, now that everyone's caught up on everything," MJ commented, "you said you found a lead on your old life. Who're you meeting?"

"Actually, I'm meeting with your dad, Gwen," Peter replied.

"My dad?" Gwen frowned. "Are you certain?"

Peter nodded. "Yeah. He caught me in action as Spider-Man, but he knew who I was. He promised that if I went with him, he'd help me figure out what happened to me and where my aunt is."

"It all sounds a bit too good be true," MJ stated. "And from that look, I'm guessing you agree with me, Gwen."

"It's just that my dad went up to a conference in Albany as a representative of the precinct at four o'clock this morning, and he won't be back until well into the night."

"Wait, you said he left at four?" Peter asked. "But I met him only forty-five minutes ago."

"No, I don't think you did," Gwen said. Pulling up her phone, she showed a text from her father from only ten minutes ago. Conference is on break. I'll call around four-thirty.

The pit in Peter's stomach took on a distinctly unpleasant feel. "If your dad's in Albany, then that means the man I met is a fake."

"And knowing what you're dealing with," MJ stated, "I wouldn't go one step with him."

"I better get out of here," Peter said, and MJ scooted out of the booth to allow him an avenue of escape. As he was leaving, however, the thought hit him. "Oh, crud, I haven't paid for my coffee."

"I'll cover it, just go," MJ practically ordered.

"You're the best!" he replied, waving before turning to go. As he was turning to leave, he accidentally walked right into another customer. "Oh, sorry, uh…" However, the rest of the words caught in his throat as he looked up and realized the man was "George Stacy."

"Hey, Peter, glad to see you could make it," the imposter said.

"Yeah, about that," Peter replied, looking for any opportunity to edge away. "I just remembered, there's someplace I have to be. We'll have to arrange this for another time." Try two weeks from never, he added in his mind.

The imposter, however, did not seem willing to give up the issue. "Actually, it needs to be now," he stated, grabbing Peter by the arm. "We've found your aunt, and the car outside will take you right to her."

Yeah, right, Peter thought. The moment the man laid a hand on him, his spider-sense went off, signaling that intentions were not good. Yanking his arm away, he attempted to bolt, but was caught by the back of the shirt.

"You're not getting away that easy, lab rat," the man said, his voice getting a hint of a Russian accent to it.

Before the man could do anything else to him, though, he was struck hard with a purse from behind. It wasn't hard enough to deal a lot of damage, but it was enough to force the imposter to release his captive.

"Go, Peter! Now!" MJ called, brandishing her purse defensively. "Run!"

Peter did not need to be told twice. Taking off as fast as his feet would take him, he bolted out the door and into the street.

Seeing his captive flee, the imposter turned and snarled at MJ. "Be thankful I don't have time for your right now," he sneered before shooting off after the fleeing Peter.

The villain now on the run, MJ turned to the café counter. Behind was a woman, who was just hanging up the phone. "I don't know what just happened there," the woman said, "but if you meet up with your friend, you can tell him I called the police. He might want to go in to the station sometime."

"Thanks, Shirley," MJ said with a grin. "You can just put his coffee on my tab."

The woman waved a hand. "Don't worry about it. I could see why he'd run."

"Awesome!" she replied, before then turning to Gwen. "Come on," she said, "we've got to hurry and find Pete before that creeper using your dad's face does."

"Got it," Gwen agreed, snatching up her own purse as well.

To be continued…


	4. Chapter 4

Well, this day turned south in a hurry, Spider-Man thought as he swung up on a lamp post. Now, I just need to keep a watch out for anyone who looks like they might be Captain Stacy…

To achieve his end, he swung over the city, being careful to stay high enough to be out of reach, yet low enough to be able to see the faces of those below him. It was a delicate balance, but one that he was able to achieve using his powers.

Unfortunately, the strategy didn't seem to have too much of an effect. Every time he searched through the crowds for any sign of his opponent, he was only given a sharp reminder of just how many people live in New York City.

Alright, this isn't working out for me, Spider-Man thought. If only there was some sign when I spotted the guy I'm looking for.

It was at that moment that his spider-sense went off, signaling for him to jump up the wall. He obeyed in a heartbeat and was only just able to dodge out of the way before a second Spider-Man landed.

"What?!" the true Spidey exclaimed when he saw the impersonator.

"What? Did you think I'd actually pursue you using that other form?" the false spider asked, and his voice was identical to the true one. "It was useful for gaining your trust, but one must be able to change their form to adapt." While saying this, he charged at the true Spider-Man, swinging at him with both fists.

"So, that's your deal, huh?" the real Spider-Man asked. "You're a shapeshifter? Well, I guess that makes sense. So, what happen? Mutant? Gamma rays? Magic?" He leapt out of the way of another blow before shooting off a thick layer of web fluid into his opponent's face. "No, wait, don't tell me. You ate a bad batch of Nutella and woke up this way."

"Huh," the shapeshifter responded, clawing through the webbing before striking out to grab the wall-crawler. "He mentioned you cope with fear through humor. Good to know I'm getting to you."

"Wait? 'He?'" Spider-Man asked, half serious in his confusion. It didn't last long. "Don't tell me you're getting info from Santa Clause. If that's the case, he's got one messed up nice list."

"Your glib comments would be less amusing if it wasn't a mask for your insecurities," the shapeshifter replied, and he straightened out to launch another attack at the true spider. "Of course, it is of no matter. You are nothing by weakling child. You never had a chance."

Seeing this as an opportunity, Spider-Man rushed ahead, grabbing ahold of his double and pulling him off the wall. "Oh, you flatter, you. How about a hug?"

"Unhand me, you philistine!" the double exclaimed, and he attempted to strike at Spider-Man's head.

"Now, there's the problem with your costume," Spider-Man commented. "I would never use the term 'philistine.' I'm more of a 'ya mook' guy. What can I say? I was born and bred in New York."

The double didn't respond this time. Instead he shifted, and the image of Spider-Man changed to one of Iron Man. Without waiting a moment, he shifted his jets into gear, and while they weren't as strong as they would have been had it been Tony Stark, they were powerful enough to tear Spider-Man off the wall.

"Hey, no fair!" Spider-Man called out, clinging on to his opponent as tight as he could. "Everyone knows spiders can't fly!"

"It's almost a shame he requested you be brought in alive," the Iron Man imposter said, and once more his voice had changed, this time in imitation of Tony Stark. "It would have been interesting to test the full force of my abilities on you. Still, you'd be surprised what one can live through."

Raising the imitation of the repulsor beams, the imposter prepared to fire at Spider-Man. However, the spider-sense went off just in time, and Spider-Man released his opponent before being hit. "There's that 'he' again," the web head commented as he shot a web to catch himself. "Who on earth has such a fascination with me they'd hire a circus freak to come after me?"

This comment seemed to get to the imposter, who spun around with repulsors blazing. "I am not a freak, you miserable plebe!" he practically shouted. "I am a member of the noble house of Kravinoff, and you will deal me the respect I am due!"

Spider-Man leapt up, effortlessly dodging the blasts. Once he made certain that no bystanders were in danger of the debris (thankfully, they had the common sense to run away), he leapt onto a billboard. "Oh, I didn't realize I was in the presence of nobility," he said. He then gave a mock curtsy. "Please, your worshipful princessness, an ignorant philistine plebe like me would never imagine being in the presence of such high, worshipful glory. Would you like me to lick thine boots?"

The imposter was fuming now, and Spider-Man had to leap onto a flagpole to avoid being blasted. "You dare to mock a Kravinoff!"

"Oh, I'd even dare to mock a Kraven-On," Spider-Man answered. "It's kind of my thing."

The imposter immediately started charging his blasters. "You will pay for that, insect!"

"Ah-ah-ah," Spider-Man scolded, shooting off two webs to cover over his opponent's hands. "I'm an arachnid, not an insect. See, my symbol has eight legs, not six."

"What?!" the imposter said, trying to tear the webbing off. It was too tough, however, and the blasters exploded from the clogged nozzle, sending the imposter falling.

"Alright, can't have you smash up good pavement," Spider-Man said, shooting out webs to catch his opponent as he fell. "My insurance may be a good neighbor, but I know my neighbors would never pay for something like that."

He then fired off more and more webbing at the copycat, fully entwining him in webbing. "There," Spider-Man said, coming over to where the shapeshifter was trapped. "Now just stay there like a good little chameleon and wait for the police."

"So, you have heard of me?" The shapeshifter's form ebbed away, until he had become an ordinary man in a white, featureless mask.

"Know you?" Spider-Man asked. "Well, earlier today, I did think I knew you, but that was back when I thought you were George Stacy. Which reminds me, how did you know so much about me?"

Under the coat of webbing, Chameleon pressed a button. "Do not worry, Spider-Man, you will find out soon enough."

As he was saying these words, the spider-sense went off, and Spider-Man was forced to pull a backflip to avoid being hit by a van that rushed in. Once it arrived, the Chameleon cut himself loose from the webs with a secluded knife and jumped into the back of the van, which then drove off. Spider-Man was just able to get a tracker on it before it disappeared.

So, that's one baddie who seems to know everything about me, and I know nothing about him, he thought with a groan. Well, at least I'm not completely empty handed. I do have a name to look up: Kravinoff.

Now, if only I just had access to a computer, he added somewhat reproachfully.

Well, nothing more I can do here, he thought, trying to come up with a more cheerful topic to think of. I don't know where MJ and Gwen are, but MJ knows I'm staying at the F.E.A.S.T. center. I'd better head there, and she'll meet me there.

On the bright side, he added to himself, that means I'll be able to make it to the job fair, and with time to spare. It ends at three, officially, and it's only, like what? Noon? It's got to be 12:30, tops.

Unfortunately, Peter's internal clock was off, and it wasn't until 2:15 that he made it back to the F.E.A.S.T. center, and it was 2:51 by the time he was able to take a shower and make himself presentable. When he had gotten everything together, the tables for most of the booths were already being taken down.

"What's going on?" he asked the man at the one booth still standing. "Isn't this going on until three?"

"It's eight 'till, kid," the man stated. "No one's going to be doing interviews in eight minutes. Just go home."

"Please, there's got to be something," Peter pleaded. "I really need this."

"If you really needed this, then you would have made it," the man replied. "Just shove off, kid."

"I tried to, I really did," Peter explained. "It's just, I was attacked, and I had to run away, and once that all was finished, I had to hurry to get here. Please, there's got to be something!"

"Read my lips," the man said in irritation. "Go. Home. Nothing's left."

"I don't have a home," Peter said. "Please, I'll take anything!"

"What's going on over here," a man asked. Peter turned and saw a man in a suit coming over to them.

He had never seen this man before in his life, but the irritable stand attendant obviously had. "Mr. Li, good to see you," the man said, changing his attitude in a minute. "What are you doing here?"

"I just came to get the report from the recruitment fair," the man, Mr. Li, apparently, replied. "Now, what is it you were talking about?"

"Oh, nothing important, sir," the attendant said.

Peter, however, wasn't about to let the issue slide. "I just made it here, sir, and I'm trying to apply, but he keeps saying it's too late."

"It's six minutes to three," the attendant said, becoming annoyed again. "Most everyone else has shut down."

"Then they shut down too early," Mr. Li stated. "It was decided that the fair would run until three, and it's not three yet. Surely there's some time to try to find something to fit this young man."

"Yes, sir," the attendant conceded, though he made a face at Peter that made it clear he wasn't happy.

When the attendant had gone, Peter turned to Mr. Li. "Thanks for the help, Mr. Li." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, realization hit him like a ton of brick. "Wait, are you Martin Li? As in, the guy who owns this place?"

"In the flesh," Li replied. "And who might I be talking to?"

"Peter…" Peter had been about to say his real, but it dawned on him that with today's scare, it might not be a good idea to give that away too often. "Peter David. You can call me Peter, though."

"Nice to meet you, Peter," Mr. Li said. "I'm afraid I have to leave, but it was nice meeting you. Good luck, wherever you end up."

"Thanks, you too." As soon as he was alone, Peter gave a small sigh. Things might be a bit hard, but it seemed that, at the very least, he would make it.

"Peter, there you are!" He looked up when heard MJ call. She and Gwen were hurrying into the building, and concern was stamped on their features. "Peter, are you alright?" she asked as they arrived at his side.

"We tried to find you after you and that creep took off," Gwen explained, "but we couldn't find you. What happened? Are you hurt?"

"No, I'm fine," he reassured them. "That guy got away, though, but I did get a name. Kravinoff."

"Kravinoff?" MJ asked. "You mean like Sergei Kravinoff?"

"Who?" Peter asked.

"Some rich Russian aristocrat," MJ explained. "His family got out of Russia before the revolution, and once the wall fell they took over a lot of previously lost lands. He keeps a low profile, but he's still pretty famous."

"Well, unless he's also a shapeshifter, I don't think he's the guy," Peter replied with a shrug. "He did, come to think if it, seem to think he was hot stuff. Coming from some noble line might have something to do with that."

"We'll have to look up the name to see if we can find out later," Gwen said, pulling out her phone and typing the name in. "Oh, by the way, the police want you to go down to the station when you can."

"The police station? Why?" A chill crawled down his spine as he thought of the stubborn police woman, De Wolff.

"You we're the victim of assault," MJ stated. "They want your statement over what happened.

"Oh, that." Peter let out a sigh of relief. "Yeah, I'll try to remember."

"Hey, kid, do you want a job or not?" By then, the attendant had gathered a list of papers and had them in a pile. He also didn't seem to appreciate the fact that Peter was in a conversation.

"Sorry, guys, gotta go," he said, giving the girls a wave before hurrying over.

"It was good to see you again, Pete," Gwen said, returning the wave.

"Blow 'em away, Tiger," MJ said with a grin.

When Peter arrived, the man gave a grunt. "You got a resume, kid?"

"Oh, yes, right here," Peter said, pulling out a single folded sheet of paper.

The man looked at it and frowned. "No college degree, didn't finish high school, and one contact." He gave a snort. "Not exactly what most people are looking for."

Peter's heart sank, but the man wasn't finished. "We do have one thing, however," he said, slipping a single sheet of paper out of the pile. "Here. There's a custodian position at a lab in Brooklyn. Doesn't really pay much, and it's a 24-7 position, so you'll have to live on or near the premises, but they'll be willing to look at you despite your bare bones resume."

"Thank you so much!" Peter exclaimed, taking the paper. "I'll take it!"

The man then gave a dark chuckle. "I'm not sure I'd be so eager to head that way. No one else wanted that position."

A part of Peter just wanted to ignore him and go on, but his curiosity was peaked. "Why?"

The man gave a smirk. "Because you're going to be working for Doctor Octopus."

In the dark hotel room he was calling a hideaway, the Chameleon scowled. He had been so close to capturing Parker. If only he hadn't run into Stacy's daughter, he would have turned the boy over to his employer and received his pay by now.

Her intrusion had set him back, but it hadn't finished his goal, he had to remind himself. His attempt of getting Parker to come alone with him had failed, as had trying to take him by force, but there was more than one way to skin a cat.

On top of it, he hadn't reported back to his employer yet, so he'd also have time. He'd just have to take things slowly and patiently. He'd ensnare the spider, eventually; all he had to do was bide his time.

"Dr. Otto Octavius," Peter read aloud to himself from a news article as he wandered to the lab, "sometimes called 'Doctor Octopus' because of his amazing mechanical prosthetic arms, is undoubtedly a man of genius. Some would also argue he is a man of madness. While he has had a hand in many recent technological developments, he has been known to waste resources chasing impossible or dangerous developments, such as the Quantum Acceleration energy experiment from last year, which stretched legal safety limits as far as possible in the name of future human improvement. Even the arms that have made him so famous have made some question the prudence of the use of such a device, and his insistence in using the device despite its sometimes-unpredictable behavior have caused more than a few to question his sanity.

"Thus was the grounds for his dismissal from the main Oscorp staff last year," the article continued on it's final paragraph. "He and a small number of staff were sent off to continue their own projects in a smaller side lab for the corporation. Only time will tell if he is remembered for brilliance or insanity."

Quite the guy to start working for, Peter thought as he tucked the paper back into his pocket. It was around four-thirty, and he had gotten in contact with the lab to arrange the interview for five o'clock. It seemed odd to him that they'd take him so late in the day, but it seemed as if they were as in need for someone to fill the position as he was to fill it. Peter didn't know if that was a good sign or not.

He glanced over at his destination, and he couldn't help but think that the destination seemed to reflect the man well. It was a large, old building that appeared to have once been a boathouse. It was sitting a pier out over the water, and you could see underneath the pier to the river below. An interesting place, to be certain, but an odd one for a lab.

Ah, well, beggars can't be choosers, Peter added. If I must do janitorial work, at least it's in a pretty area.

If they'll have me, of course, he was quick to add in, in reproach for his confidence.

He walked around the pier to the front, where a huge 156 was emblazoned in glass over the huge doors. After glancing around to make sure there wasn't any more natural sized doors, Peter reached out and knocked on one of the mammoth ones.

He waited for a moment, listening as a scuffle was going on inside. A lot of people were talking, at least one of them shouting, and none of them aware of his presence. He knocked again, this time a little bit harder, and this time he received results.

The door was opened by a pleasant looking woman with dark but greying hair. "May I help you?" she asked.

Peter held out the slip of paper he had received from the job fair. "I'm here about the janitorial position. I have an interview at five."

The woman looked down at the sheet and sighed. "You spoke with Otto, didn't you?"

"Yes, ma'am," he affirmed.

The woman laughed. "He must have set this up without checking the time. Come in, come in. I'll see what I can do. My names Rosalie Octavius, by the way, but most people call me Rosie."

"Nice to meet you," he replied. "I'm Peter." He paused for a moment before realizing he forgot something. "David. Peter David. That's the name I gave."

Rosie motioned to a small sitting area off to one side. "Well, Peter, make yourself comfortable, and I'll see if Otto can see you." She then went through a door at the back.

Peter did as he was told, taking a seat on one of the couches. He glanced around, trying to get a hang of his environment. It was a high, narrow room with a set of stairs on the other side of the room, leading up into a second floor. At the back, there was a partition that separated this room from what he supposed was the larger lab. There were five doors, though they were in such close relation to each other that he couldn't imagine what was behind them.

It was at that moment that one of the doors slammed open, and a dark-skinned woman in a white lab coat marched out. "I've told you this once and I'll tell you this again: you are insane."

"But it worked, Sanjani!" a stocky, strawberry-blond haired man called back. He had a big grin plastered on his face (despite the fact that his face and clothes were covered in some black mud) and some sort of grubby rock in his hand. "I finally made a working teleportation device!"

"What you did was pull a ton of mud into the lab from who knows where," the woman, Sanjani, snapped.

"Actually, if these calculations are right," a petite blonde woman with glasses said, following the other two out of the lab, "then the mud was from the bottom of the Mississippi River, somewhere in the Arkansas/Tennessee area, to be precise. I'll have to look at the specific insect variety to be certain, but I'd say that's a pretty close estimation."

"So Grady pulled in Mississippi River mud, big difference," Sanjani replied in an icy tone. "Since Kevin quite last month, that means we'll be the ones cleaning it up."

Peter felt a bit awkward just sitting there in the middle of their argument. In an attempt to try to get their attention, he cleared his throat.

Unfortunately, it did not good, as they didn't seem to notice him. "Come on," Grady argued, "this is a huge breakthrough! We've finally got what the client asked for!"

"What the client asked for was a teleportation system that could be used to transport livestock, you know, alive," Sanjani retorted. "Those fish looked pretty dead to me."

"They couldn't have all been dead," Grady stated. He turned to the blonde. "Bella?"

The blonde, Bella, frowned. "Yes, they were all dead, the poor things."

Grady paused at the revelation, but wasn't quite ready to give in. "Okay, so it needs some fine tuning. That's not the end of the world!"

Peter was now feeling even more awkward being present for the argument, so he cleared his throat again, this time a bit louder. That seemed to do the trick.

"What do you want?" Sanjani snapped turning towards him.

"Uh, hi," Peter said, now wishing he had just stayed silent. "I'm Peter. I'm here for an interview."

"Oh, dear," Bella said. "You just heard all of that, didn't you? I'm sorry, where are our manners." She came over and held out her hand. "I'm Arabella Fishbach, the resident biologist and biological advances developer. I'm please to meet you, Peter."

"No worries," Peter replied. "Nice to meet you, too."

"I'm Grady Scraps," Grady said, joining Peter and Bella and seating himself in the chair opposite Peter. He didn't seem to notice he was getting mud all over the nice white upholstery. "I'm the computer programmer and technological developer. She's Sanjani Jaffrey, the lead astrophysicist and astrobiologist."

"Hi," Sanjani said curtly, putting on her jacket as she said it. It was clear she did not intend to come over.

Thankfully, Grady took over in the absence. "So, Pete, you're here for an interview? Great! It's just been the three of us here for a while. Well, the three of us and Anna Maria, but she's already gone home. We've been needing a few more people around. What's you're field? Chemistry? Physics?"

"Cleanliness," Peter replied with an awkward smile. "I'm here for the janitorial position."

He half expected them to lose interest in him at the revelation, but it didn't seem to sway Bella and Grady. Sanjani never had any interest at all, and there was no change in her attitude as she strode out the door.

"Great!" Grady exclaimed. "Our last guy quit a while back, so we've been needing some help."

"Peter? Otto's ready to see you now." The trio turned to see Rosie, who was standing at the halfway point on the stairs. She motioned for Peter to join her. "He'll meet with you in his personal lab."

"Good luck, Pete," Grady said, clapping Peter on the back. "I look forward to working with you."

"Just don't let the arms intimidate you," Bella added. "They're really quite friendly."

Peter couldn't help but wonder what she meant by that, but he didn't have too much time to process it. Instead, he thought of what he was going to say as he followed Rosie to the second floor.

This floor comprised a comfortable living area. There was a kitchen, a combination dining/living room, and a hallway that lead down to a number of other rooms. It was down here and to the room on the very end that they came to. "This is his lab," Rosie said. "Good luck."

"Thanks," he replied. He took a breath and opened the door, steeling himself for whatever it is he might encounter.

He was not prepared for the four metal actuators he met as he entered the room. They had practically jumped out at him, each with four claws spread wide and a flashing L.E.D. light in the center. He held perfectly still, not quite certain what to do.

Thankfully, he didn't have to do much, as someone else spoke. "Beta! Gamma! Delta! Epsilon! Down! This is not how we treat guests!"

The four actuators lowered and backed down, retreating to the man who had spoken. He was an older-middle aged man with greying hair and beard. He was dressed in a white lab coat and, most oddly, had a harness around his middle which was attached to four mechanical arms. It was to these that the actuators were attached.

"Sorry about that," the man said, coming over to join Peter. "They just get excited to meet new people. I'm Dr. Otto Octavius. Now, you must be Peter David?" he asked. When Peter gave the affirmative, the man smiled. "Thank you for coming in so late. When you called, I had assumed it was earlier."

"No problem at all," Peter replied. "I didn't have anything planned."

"Good attitude," Otto responded with a nod. "Sorry I'm not quite prepared. I was working on a personal project and lost track of time."

He took off his lab coat, revealing the harness, which he began to take off. To Peter's amazement, the top two actuators assisted in the removal. "Now," Otto said when he had it unhooked, "as I set these arms up for the night, tell me a bit about yourself."

"Well," Peter said, trying to think of something that was both the truth and didn't reveal too much. "I grew up in Queens. I attended Midtown High until I was sixteen, when some…issues came up in my personal life that made me drop out."

"A drop out, huh?" Otto asked as he removed the harness and set it up to a charger, and it was clear he did not exactly approve. "Have you ever considered finishing your education?"

"Almost every day," Peter replied. "I always wanted to be some sort of scientist, and I have an interest in interactive chemistry, especially with biology and technology. I was hoping to graduate and go on to Empire State, but the choice was made for me."

"Interactive chemistry? That's a difficult field," Otto replied, though his tone carried interest. "An obscure field, too. I wouldn't expect many graduates to know about that field, none the less only with a high school education."

"I found out about it when I was twelve," Peter replied. "I had read up on the papers produced by Dr. Connors on the potentiality for limb regeneration using splicer enzymes to incorporate reptile D.N.A. I wanted to use it as an extra credit project, and I had everything ready, but my teacher didn't know enough about the field to take the grade."

"You read those at twelve?" Otto asked. A look of doubt came in his face, but one of interest as well. "Come over here, and look at this."

Peter obeyed, joining Otto over at the harness. As he came over, the arms began moving again, taking interest in the young man.

"Take no notice of them, they won't hurt you," Otto said as the actuators began examining Peter again. He pointed out a long strip at the back of the harness, which when he was wearing it would climb up his spine to the back of the neck. "Tell me what you see here."

Peter looked closely. "Let's see…the core components are covered up. I'd need to take apart the covering to get an idea. However, surrounding it, I can make those out easy enough. It looks like…whoa! Is this a faux-fasciculus system?" His eyes went wide, and he turned to Otto for explanation.

Otto, however, remained silent, only gesturing for Peter to go on. "Alright, let see. I think this is a faux-fasciculus system, which would take information from the arms and send it to faux-nucleus at the top right…here." He ran his finger up the device, stopping on a node-like transmitter at the very top. "It has to have decussation on multiple levels, too, allowing for both ipsilateral and contralateral innervation, which means that if there was any damage done on one level, there would still be sensation coming from another area. Still, it would need to be bathed in a sodium and potassium rich solution to be able to mimic the electric and chemical conditions in the nervous system."

Otto smiled and nodded approvingly. "Correct on all accounts. When in use, the solution is secreted from the covering and drained when disengaged. That's more than many graduate students would have gotten, especially since you only had your own sight to go on. Really, Peter, I'd recommend you try to find some way to finish your education instead of finding a menial labor position. Such a waste of pure intellect would be borderline criminal."

"I wish I could," Peter responded with a shrug. "Unfortunately, you need money to attend school, and that's just something I don't have." He slumped down bit. "I've been on my own for a while now, and while a friend has been helping me a bit, I can't sponge off her forever, and I certainly can't expect her to pay a college degree. I've got to find some source of income now, and hopefully I'll be able to save up to go to school eventually."

Otto frowned. "I see. I suppose such troubles would hold you back." He thought for a moment before speaking again. "I'll tell you what. You can have the job."

"Really?" Peter brightened up. "Thank you! Thank you so much! You won't regret it!"

"Ah, there is one condition," Otto was quick to add. He then turned to the arms. "Beta, Gamma, retrieve the Applesons textbooks, will you?"

The upper arms shot up, stretching out to the other side of the room and snatching up a large box. They brought these to Otto and set them down at his feet. "Thank you," he said, stroking the two actuators before turning to the box.

Opening it up, he selected two books, a large text and a smaller worksheet book. "Here," he said, handing them to Peter. "Look over these. Starting Halloween, I want you to turn in a completed worksheet to me at the end of the month. The mind's a muscle, Peter, and if you don't use it, it will atrophy."

"Of course, thank you, sir!" Peter said, taking the two. "So, when do I start?"

Otto chuckled. "Well, considering the noise that was coming from downstairs, I would appreciate if you'd start now. The cleaning supplies and a jumpsuit are down in the supply closet. I suspect Grady will need help cleaning whatever it was up. Now, where are you staying?"

"The F.E.A.S.T. center, sir," Peter answered.

"Why don't you stay here, at least until you get enough for your own apartment?" Otto offered. "That's what the last janitor 's a guest room a few doors down where you can stay."

"Absolutely! Thank you so much!" Peter gave a nod before hurrying downstairs.

When Peter had gone, Rosie slipped into the room. "Well, he seemed please," she said to her husband. "I assume things went well."

Otto frowned as he set the book box back on its self and lowered the lights. "Too well. The boy's smart. He might even be a genius. I'd rather hire him as a developer than a janitor, but smart as he is, he doesn't have enough education for the position yet."

"I'm guessing that's why he had those texts," she replied with a laugh. "I don't remember you offering those to Kevin."

"Mr. Draden was a good janitor, but he had no vision, no abilities." He shook his head. "Peter was able to identify the Fasciculus Brachium system just by looking at it, as well as describe how it works. It'd be felonious to confine his talents to a mop. Hopefully, with this pattern, I might be able to promote him in a year or two."

"You really do like him," Rosie said, nodding with approval. "He seems like a nice young man."

"Mark my words, Rosie," Otto said, shaking his finger. "Intellect like that it one in a million. That boy has a fine destiny; all we have to do is help him achieve it."

To be continued…


	5. Chapter 5

Learning the Environment

"Sorry that you had to start off on an evening like this," Grady commented. He and Peter were currently hard at work, shoveling muck into two large garbage cans. It was a huge task, as both cans had been filled and emptied twice already, and they were only two-fifths of the way done.

"Don't worry about it," Peter replied. He had already pulled the brown jumpsuit on over his clothes and was determined to get more accustomed to his new surroundings. He grinned as he looked around. "I'm just glad to help in a place like this."

The main lab was huge, as it took up the majority of the first floor. Other than the small antechamber in the front, the entirety of the boathouse was dedicated to this area, which had been partitioned off into multiple areas.

Grady's area was in the back-right corner, and was lined with a variety of computers, with the teleportation machine right in the center. It was here that most of the mess was confined to.

Bella's area was next, and had a variety of cages and jar with living specimen. There was also vials of what Peter assumed where venom and blood samples, but he didn't think it polite to ask at the moment.

"Alright, so you guys' areas of work are obvious," Peter commented as he tied off another bag and lugged it over by the previous two, "but what about the other areas? I mean, I'm guessing that telescope is Sanjani's, but what about that little chamber over there." He pointed over to the front right corner of the lab, which looked a bit different from the rest. It was set up more like a doctor's office, though the desks for the supplies and computer, as well as the chairs, were lowered to a height that he would have expected more for a child. The primary landmark of that area, however, was a large chamber shaped not unlike an MRI tube, though more rectangular in shape.

"Oh, that?" Bella responded. She had been over in her area, autopsying some of the fish to find out exactly what it was that killed them. "That belongs to Dr. Anna Maria Marconi. She's the resident medical expert. As for why everything is short, she has dwarfism, so most of the equipment was sized for her use."

"So she's a medical doctor, huh?" Peter opened up another garbage bag as he thought on the information. "This is a funny place for an M.D. to work."

"Well, she does spend time at the 24-hour clinic. I think that's where she is now," Bella replied. "However, she also works here on potential medical developments. That chamber is an experimental system that could allow her to pinpoint an issue inside the human body using a hyper-light system, which is less invasive and damaging than radiation and doesn't affect metal like magnets."

"Wait'll you try it," Grady commented. "It feels like you're getting examined by aliens."

"So you've all experienced it?" Peter asked.

Grady nodded. "Yep. For ease sake, and since there's only the six of us here, counting Dr. and Mrs. Octavius, Anna Maria handles most of the medical need here. It's easier on us, especially since we don't exactly make all too much here."

"I feel that," Peter replied with a nod. He paused to lift another shovel load into the garbage. "So, why again did you transport in a bunch of mud from the Mississippi River again? I mean, if we wanted mud, East River mud would work just as well."

Grady chuckled. "Nah, it's my project. We were hired to develop a teleportation system that would allow farmers to transport livestock from one are in the country to the next, allowing for faster travel and less strain on the livestock than transportation in a car or train would cause."

"Which, I might say, still isn't working the way it's supposed to," Bella added, looking up from her own work. "The fish died the moment they were transported, mostly from shock. You'll have to work on that before you test it again."

"That seems kind of dangerous to be testing at random," Peter commented.

Grady nodded as he added the fourth bag to the pile. "Which is why I aimed it at one of the deepest parts of the Mississippi. There wasn't likely to be any swimmers there, just mud and fish."

"Lucky us," Peter said with a laugh. He set down the shovel for a moment and picked up the mop to clean up the area he had just cleared out. "Well, at least we're halfway done. Is there anything you want done with the mud?"

"I'll dispose of it," Bella said. "We don't want to cross contaminate by getting it in the river. If anything did survive the trip, it could become invasive to the region."

"So, Pete, you've been asking us a lot of questions," Grady commented as he continued shoveling off the teleporter pad, "but how about you? Where'd you come from? You got any family around here?"

Peter bit his lip. He had suspected something like this might come up, but he didn't want to air out his full history without knowing them well first. "Oh, uh, yeah. I've been on my own for a while. Going here and there, you know that."

"Ah, a nomad," Grady said with a nod. "So does that mean you're not going to be staying long?"

"I hope to stay here for a while," Peter answered. "I know I have an aunt somewhere in Queens, but I can't seem to find her."

"Oh, what's her name?" Bella asked as she disposed of the fish carcass. "I know a lot of people from Queens. Maybe I know her."

"May Parker," Peter answered. "She used to live in Forest Hills. That ring a bell?"

Bella frowned. "I'm afraid not. Sorry."

"Don't worry," Peter replied, though a twinge of sadness did come to him.

He was now eager to change the subject. "So, it's getting pretty late. You guys want to head home? I can take care of the rest of this myself."

"But what about you?" Grady asked. "I wouldn't want you to have to be here until one in the morning."

Peter laughed as he wrung out the mop, his mind traveling to how fast he could get this done if he didn't have to disguise his strength and speed. "I'm already doing that. I don't really have a place to go, so Dr. Octavius offered to let me stay in the spare room here until I can get on my feet."

"At the very least then, come with us to dinner," Bella said. "We always go out for pizza once a month, so you can tag along. We'll just head out once we can get into some clean clothes. If you're coming back anywhere, you can take a pause to eat."

The offer was very tempting, but an issue weighed heavily on Peter's mind. "Thanks for the offer," he replied, "but I'm afraid I can't afford it."

"No prob!" Grady replied. "I'll cover you; it's the least I can do for leaving this mess behind. Besides, you'd have to pay for whatever you'd eat, anyway."

"When you put it that way, then sure," Peter said with a shrug. He wrung out the mop one more time before setting it aside. "So, where are we headed?"

"It's this great little place called Marlo's," Bella answered as she finished putting away her tools. "Have you ever been there?"

"Can't say I have, but I'm game to try," Peter stated.

* * *

In the seclusion of his darkened room, a man sat at his computer. He was dressed in a smart red suit and tie, which was near immaculate. Next to the computer sat a black and gold Anubis mask that would have covered all his face but his mouth and chin, had he been wearing it. On the computer screen, the image of Peter Parker struggling for his life played out, and the man scowled. "It's been over a week now, Parker," he said with a scowl, and malice flashed in his green eyes. "Why haven't you shown up?"

There then came a knock at the door. "Come in," the man replied, not even bothering to look up as he answered.

A short, timid looking man came in. "Dr. Warren, they've come back," he said. "Should I send them in?"

Hearing the news, the man smiled. "Yes, send them in at once," he said, and as the other man left, he picked up the mask and put it on.

Almost as soon as he was finished with that, the door slammed open again. In strode four young adults. A bulky young man with sandy blond hair came in first, followed by a hyperactive blonde woman and a pale woman with black hair. The last one in was a young man of Puerto Rican decent, who didn't seem as eager as his companions to be there.

"We did it, Jackal," the blond man said, giving a grin. "We've got the samples transported and ready." He gave a smirk. "Of course, Fisk's men tried to poke around in things a bit too much, but we won't have to worry about them any time soon."

"Glad to hear things were a success, Mr. Bench," the Jackal replied, "but I have a new mission for you. I suppose you all remember Mr. Parker?"

The black haired girl gave a grin. "Do I? Of course, I know him."

"He meant all of us, Piper," the Puerto Rican said. He seemed a bit uncomfortable with the topic. "You might have the obsession, but we're still a team."

"So, what is it?" the blonde girl asked. "Is he not cooperating again?" She smirked. "Do you want us to go talk sense into him?"

"Yes, on both accounts," the Jackal replied, "but unfortunately, it's a bit more complicated than just that. You see, shortly after your four left for your mission, Mr. Parker escaped. He made it out of here and onto a passing ferry. We haven't been able to locate him directly just yet, but we have a feeling he would have made his way back to Queens."

"So we track him down and bring him back here?" the blond man asked.

The Jackal nodded. "But you must be quick about it. Word is out that our competitor knows of Mr. Parker's escape as well and has sent agents of his own to take him as well. We cannot let them succeed."

"What's the big deal?" the Puerto Rican boy asked. "He never wanted to join us in the first place, and the 'conditioning' techniques didn't work. Maybe we should just leave him be."

"What the big deal is, Mr. Allen," the Jackal responded, "is that Mr. Parker is a valuable commodity. One of the few know accidental meta humans who is known of, but not strongly enough for his disappearance to matter. We have done marvels with his DNA; you of all people should know that, since the serum you four were given came from altered samples of his blood. We will continue to work to…persuade Mr. Parker to our side, but there is much yet to be done with him, whether he wishes to cooperate or not."

"On top of that," he went on, "is that our competitor is aware of his escape as well. He's the one responsible for Mr. Parker's mutation, and he wishes to utilize it as well. That's why I had to take the research I had when I could."

"Now," he finished, "I must remind you, especially you two, Mr. Bench and Miss Yanizeski, that we want Mr. Parker brought here alive. We also want to avoid revealing his connection to a certain well-known arachnid. That would make it difficult for us to get close."

"Find Parker, bring him back, don't let anyone else onto it," Bench replied with a nod. "Anything else before we head out?"

"No," the Jackal replied. "Just go, and hurry before another of our competitor's agents tries to beat us to the punch. But remember, no one can see you. If people know where we are, the whole operation will be lost." The four meta humans gave an affirmative, though some were more enthusiastic than others, and hurried out.

When they were gone, the Jackal turned to a back bookshelf and pulled a book. "Hopefully Parker will be back within the week," he said as the shelf pulled back and revealed a multitude of hidden glowing tube. Within two of them were figures. One was a fetus was attached multiple tubes and wires. The other looked older, being a developed boy of about six years old, who was similarly wired up. "Of course," he added, grinning at the growing children, "you will make suitable backup plans."

* * *

"No way!" Grady exclaimed. He, Peter, and Bella had recently been seated in the pizza place, which seemed to have been set up as a tribute to old timey pizza places. At the moment, Grady was marveling at the amount of bread sticks, salad, and pizza Peter had put away. "No one's ever beaten my seven slices in fifteen minutes record! You must have some bottomless leg somewhere."

Peter gulped, swallowing down a portion of his ninth slice. "Sorry," he said, embarrassment clear in his voice. "I kind of have a large appetite, and I've been dead broke for a while, so I guess I haven't really been able to eat my fill. I suppose I lost track of myself."

"There's no shame, man," Grady replied, giving Peter a hearty pat on the back. "It's endless pizza night, so it's not costing us any more than normal. You and me will just have to come back on the sixth annual Pizza competition! Between the two of us, there's no way we'll be beat!

"If I remember correctly, you won the singles match this year anyway," Bella pointed out, giving an incredulous look.

Grady raised his hands. "True, but now the name Grady Scraps will be on the top of the singles and team completions!"

"And what an impressive feat that will be." The conversation was joined by a short woman with tanned skin and dark hair. She gave a smile as she pulled out a chair. "Hey, guys, sorry I'm late."

"Anna Maria! Glad to see you could make it," Grady said, greeting the newcomer. He then slapped Peter on the back. "This is Peter David. He's the new janitor for the lab. Pete, this is Anna Maria Marconi. We told you about her earlier."

"Only good things, I hope," Anna Maria commented, giving Peter a half grin.

"They told me you were developing some sort of scanning device using a hyper-light system," Peter replied. "It seems like a good idea. After all, if we could be able to get imaging without the use of radioactive materials, it would make things much safer."

"Exactly my point," Anna Maria said with a nod. "So, Peter, what brings you to Riverbed Labs?"

"Riverbed?" Peter asked. "I wasn't aware the lab had a name."

"That's just what we call it," Bella explained. "Rosie started calling it that because it sounded better than OS Subsidiary Dock 156 Boathouse Labs. Less of a mouthful, too."

"So, now to my question," Anna Maria said. "What brings you around these parts, Slick?"

Peter's mind raced as he developed an answer. "I just needed a job in the area, and this seemed pretty convenient."

"He's also trying to find his Aunt May Parker," Bella commented. "You wouldn't happen to know her, would you?"

Anna Maria chewed her lip as she thought. "The name rings a bell, but I can't say from where. I don't think it was a personal meeting, though. Sorry."

"That's alright," Peter replied. "It's a pretty big city."

They were then approached by the waiter, who took their orders and hurried back to fill them. Afterwards, the conversation drifted away to current events happening around the lab.

As they spoke, the quartet did not notice a man sitting nearby, watching the table with interest. He did and said nothing to draw attention to himself, and there was nothing about his appearance that marked him as anything other than a typical restaurant goer.

Of course, that was the Chameleon's complete intention. If he was going to find a way to get closer to Peter without allowing his prey to know who he was, he was going to have to be subtle and patient about it. He'd bide his time, when it was right, he'd spring the trap.

Not that his target's conversation was very interesting. It was mostly the sort of thing you'd expect 20-something kids to be talking about. Work, life, entertainments. It all seemed rather petty and simple to the Chameleon, but he paid attention none the less, as he was going to have to infiltrate that world soon.

"So there's this new VR video game, _World of Adventures VII,_ " Grady said. "I'm picking it up tomorrow around seven before coming in. Any of you guys up to start a group?"

"I'll say the same thing I said when you offered for WoA VI," Anna Maria said, shaking her head. "Video games aren't really my thing."

"I'll join," Bella said.

"Great! That's two, then," Grady replied. "How about you, Pete?"

"I've actually got somewhere to go in the morning." Peter's mind traveled back to the fact that they were expecting him in the police station. He was dreading the encounter, but supposed not showing up would make things worse.

"No problem, you can come in the afternoon," Grady replied. "You're not going to be tied up all day, are you?"

Peter's mind drifted to a certain red and blue arachnid. "I never like to make promises ahead of time, in case I can't keep them."

"Ah, well, invitation's open if you want it," Grady said with a shrug. "Otherwise, it looks like it's just you and me, Bella."

Having heard enough, the Chameleon paid his check and got up. He smiled to himself, having found a way to subtly insert himself.

* * *

After returning to the lab, Peter made quick work of finishing the lab before heading to his room. It was a small but comfortable room, with a twin bed, dresser, closet, nightstand, and lamp, all plain white, and connected to a similarly decorated bathroom and shower. He'd have to head back to the F.E.A.S.T. shelter later to pick up his scant belongings, so the closet and dresser were currently empty, but that wasn't what was on the young man's mind.

To his delight, the room also had a large side window overlooking the river. Once he shut and locked the door, he made quick work, changing into his Spider-Man outfit and hurrying out the window. It was time to go out on patrol.

As he moved on, he felt the all too familiar release he always felt from patrol. The wind, the light, the sounds, the smells of the city, all familiar and comforting to him, especially since it had been a while since he experienced it. This was his city, and he was glad to be home.

Of course, not all was right with the world. He was still wanted for his own murder, and that did influence how he was treated. People on the street who saw him were quick to hurry away, not eager to encounter the infamous Spider-Man. One small child, who had been staring out her window when he had leapt to the building, let out a shriek when she saw him and started to cry. _Wow, that hurts,_ he thought to himself as he hurried out of view. _Never thought I'd be the type to scare little kids. And just when I thought I had that "friendly neighborhood" image solidified._ He had to swing off fast, as the child's mother then rushed in and threw a shoe at him. It wasn't hard to dodge, but he could tell when he wasn't wanted.

Other than that, things went on the way patrol usually did. There were a few more crimes than was typical, but that was to be expected considering he had only just gotten back into the swing of things a week ago. He was able to stop a few muggings, stop a drunk driver by webbing his tires to the pavement, and even interrupt one breaking and entering. He would have been happier with that last one if the house's owner, an elderly Cuban woman, hadn't rushed out and started smacking him with a broom. _The things I do for this city…_ he sighed to himself when he was safely away.

It was getting to be early morning when his thoughts turned back to heading to his room. It was at the time where illegal activities had started to slow down, and if he got back then, he'd be able to catch an hour or two of sleep before getting up. He was thankful his abilities meant he didn't need as much sleep as he would, otherwise, but he still needed something.

He was nearly back to the dock when he heard a woman sobbing. She sounded frightened, and he could hear the word _help_ whispered in a couple of times. Without hesitation, he swung down to find the person who was crying. Unfortunately, which he could find the area based on sound, the alley he reached was empty. "Hello?" he called out. "Where are you? It's alright, I want to help you!"

He searched around the area for a few minutes, trying to seek out the source of the voice, which despite her invisibility, was still quite audible. "Hello? Where are you?"

After he had asked, the sobbing turned to giggling. In a moment, his spider-sense went off like crazy, and he leapt up, clinging to the side of building. He moved out of the way just in time, as a paper-thin arm had reached out and attempted to ensnare him. "Paper Doll?" he exclaimed when he saw it.

The owner of the arm then became visible: a flattened out young woman in purple clothes. As she became visible, she also gained depth. "Hello, Petey," she said, giving a wild grin. "Did you miss me?"

"Like the flu," Spider-Man replied.

Paper Doll, for her part, seemed to entirely miss out on his attitude. "Oh, Petey! It's just perfect! Just me, and you-hey!" While she had been talking, he had shot off a web line to get away. When she saw this, the villainess, responded by flattening and lengthening her arm, which she used to slice through the web, causing him to fall.

Before he could recover from the fall, Spider-Man found himself in her arms, which she had flattened and twisted to act like ropes, binding him arms behind him. "Oh, now, Petey," Paper Doll said with a tone of scolding in her voice. "Now really isn't the time to play hard to get."

"Who's playing?" Spider-Man asked. A part of him wanted to just tear himself free, but as the results of that would have been…gruesome, his mind raced for another option.

Unfortunately, the girl possessed a large amount of strength as well, and was able to yank him back into a highly unwanted hug. Allowing her hands to take their proper depth while keeping him bound in her arms, she pulled his mask up over his nose and started caressing his face. "Oh, Peter, you're such a kidder." She then leaned in to attempt to kiss him, a prospect that was _incredibly_ unwelcome to him.

Thankfully, that lean meant he now had an opportunity, and he was able to swipe with his foot to knock her over. They were both sent tumbling down, but the jolt loosened her grip on him enough to get free and leap up out of her reach. "Sorry, Piper," he said, pulling his mask back down. "You real pretty, but you're just not my type. I prefer girls with a much lower crazy quotient."

He shot down several webbing shots to hold her in place, but she was able to slice through them again with a fair amount of ease. _Well, that's not going to work,_ he thought to himself.

"Now, now, Spidey," she said teasingly, "we can't play this forever. You know that Jackal sent us out here to bring you back. He's very disappointed in you, you naughty boy."

Spider-Man felt like retching when he heard her flirtatious tone. "Yeah, I guessed. Why do you think I'm staying up here?"

"Oh, classic Spider-Man," Paper Doll replied, her manic grin never fading. "You think that'll keep you safe?"

As she spoke, the spider-sense went off again, and Spider-Man was forced to leap out of the way as a massive water-ball rushed at him. It exploded against the building, sending a shower of droplets raining down.

"I should have suspected you'd be pretty close, Aquaman," he called out as the villain formed up beneath him. "What, you didn't have a tuna to talk to?"

"It's Hydroman!" the villain snapped, and he hurled another water ball at Spider-Man.

"Ah, pa-tay-to, pa-tah-to," Spidey replied. He glanced around his surroundings as he traded off banter, looking for anything he could use to trap his opponents. He was forced to move on, as Hydro-Man was able to extend himself with Paper Doll on his back, bringing them both closer to the web-head than he was comfortable with.

"Now," Spider-Man said, back-flipping on to the roof as he spoke, "if I do recall, you two tended to hang out in a quartet. Where's Wii-mote and Lava Boy?"

His spider-sense went off at that moment, and he leapt up to dodge and extended blow from Hydro-Man. Unfortunately, as soon as he leapt, his spider-sense went off again, and this time he didn't have the time to move out of the way or react. He was jumped by an opponent, who cut struck his back hard with a laser baton and pushed him down. When they were down, she leapt off of him, pressing him down further and leaving him within reach of the recently arrived Paper Doll, who wasted no time in ensnaring him.

"The name's Joystick," the newcomer, a blonde in black and yellow armor, stated. She gave a grin and tweaked Spider-Man's nose. "I'd remember it, Petey."

"Joystick, can you make the call in?" Hydro-Man asked.

"Got it," Joystick said. She pressed a button on her suit. "Marky, you there? We've got ourselves a spider."

"No one saw you, did they?" a young man asked on the other end. "If you were seen, we'd get in trouble for it."

"No worries, Marky!" Joystick responded. "We've got him here, and no one's the wiser."

 _So, they can't be seen, huh?_ Spider-Man thought to himself. _That might be to my advantage, if I can get away._

His mind raced for any option to escape as the trio held him prisoner while they waited for transport, but the only sure-fire idea disgusted him. However, it was either that, or allow himself to be retaken, so he swallowed his pride and followed through.

"It really is… _something_ to see you again, Piper," he said, trying to sound love stricken and not vomit as he spoke. "We haven't been this close before in, uh, weeks."

"True," she replied with a grin, and she pulled him closer than he ever wanted to be. "Jackal never approved of our relationship."

"You know, this might be our only time to be close like this," he said, restraining his voice as internally he screamed for personal space. "It'd be a shame if I had to spend it all tied up like this."

"But you're such a naughty boy, Petey," Paper Doll replied. "How do I know you're not going to run away?"

"Isn't the risk what's thrilling about it?" Spider-Man replied, trying to sound like a James Dean-like bad boy. The effect disgusted him.

"Oh, Spidey," she said, leaning in against him. "You'd don't really think I'd fall for that. You're just too much of a flight risk. Don't worry, though. I'll make sure we have some alone time later."

Internally, Spider-Man retched. Externally, he gave an uncomfortable laugh. "Can't blame a spider for trying."

"Piper, what are you doing?" Hydro-Man asked, turning to them. "No playing around with the prisoner. Remember, Doc Warren wants him back in one piece."

"Oh, let her have her fun," Joystick commented. "As soon as we get back, the doc'll probably have him carved up for parts anyway."

His captors' discussion of his fate did not enhearten Spider-Man, and his urgency to escape rose. However, the mention that he was to be brought back alive gave him an idea.

He fell over in an instant and gave a groan of pain. Seeing him fall, Joystick wandered over and gave him a kick. "Get up!"

"I can't!" he exclaimed, trying to sound in pain. "She's holding too tight! I'm losing feeling to my leg!" That wasn't a lie, as the binding at his ankle had been tight enough to put his foot to sleep.

The trio stared down at him, and for a moment, they couldn't decide what to do. "What if it's a ploy?" Hydro-Man asked.

"It could be," Paper Doll said, but she looked concerned. "Still, if it's not…"

"You'd have to explain to the Jackal why I'm not in one piece," Spider-Man chimed in.

That seemed to do it. A look of fear passed through his captors, and, reluctantly, the bindings were loosened. That was all Spider-Man needed. As fast as he could, he contorted himself, slipping through Paper Doll's arms and shooting off, leaving her tangled up in herself. In the process, he left a tracer on her that would lead him back to her later. If the trio weren't allowed to be seen, then he could slip off now and recover, allow himself to prepare for an outnumbering later. All that mattered was he escaped now.

When they realized the prisoner had escaped, Hydro-Man prepared to follow him. Joystick, however, stopped him. "Wait, stop now!"

"He's getting away!" Hydro-Man snapped.

"Yeah, but look down," Joystick pointed out. Hydro-Man and the now recovered Paper Doll followed her gaze to see several squad cars. "We can't risk them seeing us. We'll just have to recover and get him later."

At that moment, a van pulled up to the alleyway beneath the building. The trio slunk off wordlessly. They may have failed now, but they knew Spider-Man was here. They'd get him later.

To be continued…


	6. Chapter 6

When he made it back to the lab, Spider-Man was careful to keep as silent as possible. Moving to the window of his room, he pulled it open as silently as he could and creeping back in. He then shut the window, drew the blinds, and stripped off the costume to go take a shower.

 _Oh, I so needed this,_ he thought to himself as he allowed the hot water to run over him. He could practically feel the sweat and grime of the night's patrol coming off him. It was one of the few small pleasures he allowed himself to enjoy.

What he could feel certainly _not_ coming off were the bruises he had incurred. The largest and nastiest was the one on has back that Joystick had left right above his shoulders, but there were also dark, entwining patterns around his arms and legs from where Paper Doll had ensnared him. _Yikes_ , he thought as he examined the injuries as he came out of the bathroom. _These aren't as bad as they look, but they look nasty. It'd be way too hard to explain them. Looks like it's long sleeves for me tomorrow._

He then glanced over at the nightstand clock that was sitting by his bed once he had put on his boxers. The glowing screen flashed 4:27 am. _Or today. Oh, well. At least I have some amount of time for sleep._ He then crept under the blankets on the small bed, and almost as soon as his head hit his pillow, he drifted off to sleep.

_**Crash!** _

What felt like minutes later, Peter was jolted awake by a near thunderous crash coming from the main lab. He awoke with a start, jumping out of his bed and clinging to the ceiling in shock. Thankfully, the door was still shut and the blinds drawn, so no one could see him do so.

 _That was one wake-up call,_ he thought as he released the ceiling and let himself fall back on the bed. _Let's hope that doesn't become a trend._

He glanced over at the clock to see that it was now flashing 7:34. _Three hours of sleep,_ he thought to himself. _A good amount of time. Better get ready for the day._

Getting up off the bed, he scooped up the Spider-Man costume from where it had been abandoned on the floor and prepared to put it on under his clothes. Then he smelled it. _Eww,_ he thought in disgust. _That's right. I don't think I've washed this at all since the escape. I'm surprised I've gone this long._ He wrinkled his nose. _Maybe I've got some spare change in my pants back at the F.E.A.S.T. center. If so, I'll run this through the laundromat on my way back from there._

Instead, he snatched up the small one-strapped white backpack he had bought shortly after arriving at the F.E.A.S.T. center. Taking out the set of extra clothes he had in that, he stuffed the costume into the back and dressed himself as fast as he could. Once he was dressed, he hurried down to the man lab to see what was going on, having no doubt that it would require the janitor's assistance.

When he got downstairs, he saw Dr. Octavius and Grady helping a third man bring equipment inside. Just as Peter had expected, he saw the signs of the damage near immediately, as some sort of machine lay toppled over with its glass broken and the metal portions dented in.

"Ah, Peter, good timing," Dr. Octavius called out. He was utilizing the actuators, and along with assisting the newcomer with a large, heavy machine, he also had two smaller objects carried between the arms. "We've just got an order of parts in, and we could use a hand getting them in."

Peter gave a nod. "On it. Where should I get them?"

"There's outside, in the back of my truck," the new man replied. "There shouldn't be much left."

Peter nodded and hurried outside. Sure enough, out on the dock was a pickup truck with scrap metal parts in the back. Most of them were clearly damaged, having cracks and dents all over, but they weren't very rusted, which meant they could have some repurposed potential.

Reaching in, he snatched up the two remaining devices from the back and hurried back in. "Where would you like these?" he asked as he entered the lab.

He wasn't answered verbally, however. Instead, when he got closer, two of the arms came up and took the metal objects from him before turning to place them in a neat stack of such items.

A third came over and seemed to start examining Peter up and down, it's LED flashing orange as it did so. It seemed to be trying to figure out what to make of him, and he didn't know what to do in response. He glanced over at Dr. Octavius, but he was too busy speaking with the newcomer to notice.

Deciding to take a chance, Peter swallowed and forced what he hoped was a friendly smile. "Uh, hi?"

"Pet him." Peter was so focused on the actuator that he hadn't noticed that Grady had come up and joined him, so the programmer's words came as a shock.

"Uh, what?" he asked, giving a look.

"You heard me," Grady said, motioning to the actuator. "Epsilon's curious about you and trying to figure out who you are, so pet him. He loves it."

"Uh, okay," he said, reaching out and patting the robotic limb. "Hi. It's nice to meet you."

Nearly as soon as Peter's hand came in contact with the actuator, the LED changed blue, and it moved in such a way as to press itself more firmly into his hand. It also let out a whirring sound that was rather like a purr.

"See," Grady state, moving in to pet the actuator as well. "He likes you. Of course, this is Epsilon. He likes everyone."

"Likes?" Peter asked, a little confused by the statement. "Isn't it a robot?"

"Well, yeah," Grady responded, "but when Doc was making them, these turn out a bit…different. They're totally alive!"

"Alive?" Peter was confused, but by then the actuator had turned begun to move between him and Grady in a way that made it clear it wanted more pets. He was willing to follow the train of thought. "How? Was it the A.I. program?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," Grady replied with a laugh. "And I helped make them! Nah, Dr. O. intended them just to be tools to help with hazardous materials, but they became more intelligent than that. Last time they were studied, they had the independent intelligence level of dogs."

"That makes sense," Peter stated. "This one's certainly acting like a dog."

Their conversation was suddenly cut off by Dr. Octavius' call. "Epsilon! You need to help the others with the scrap." He motioned to where the other three arms were still hard at work sorting the scrap delivery.

The LED on the arm shifted, turning purple and letting out a whine of protest. Otto shook his head. "Now, they need to get to work, too. You can get petted later." The arm let out another groan by moved on to obey.

Once it had moved on, Otto motioned to the two younger me. "Adrian," he said to the newcomer, "you already know Grady, but this is Peter David, the newest member of our team. Peter, this is Adrian Toomes. He supplies us with a lot of supplies when old man Osborn refuses to take his hand out of his pocket."

Peter held out his hand to Adrian, who was an older, blue collar looking man. "Nice to meet you, sir."

"Same here, Pedro," Adrian replied. "So, how'd you come to work in assignment Antarctica?"

"What? I'm afraid I don't understand," Peter replied.

"Oh," Grady responded. "He's just referring to the fact that this is one Oscorp's out of sight, out of mind labs."

Otto shook his head. "Peter's the custodian, so he didn't get sent here by Oscorp. Technically, he doesn't even work for Osborn; he works for me. I mean, he helps to get things ready for visits like today, but he's not an Oscorp employee."

Before the conversation could go on much longer, Rosie leaned out into the stairwell. "Peter? There's a call for you."

"Huh? For me?" Peter was baffled as to who could be calling him, none the less who would know to do so here. "Oh, uh, I'll get it."

Hurried up the stairs, unaware that Adrian was still watching him as he went. The man stroked his chin in thought. "Huh, you what?" he commented. "Pedro looks awfully familiar, though I can't place why."

"Oh, you'll probably figure it out later," Otto said, giving a dismissive wave.

…

Once Peter was up the stairs, Rosie directed him to the phone, which was hung up in a corner near a fruit bowl. He thanked her before going over to pick up the phone. "Hello?" he said somewhat hesitantly, hoping that whoever was on the other end was not his enemy.

"Pete, there you are," Gwen said, and there was a hint of relief in her voice. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," he replied, relief flooding his system. "How did you know to call me here?"

"When MJ and I realized we didn't have a way of contacting you, we went down to the F.E.A.S.T. center to try to find you," she replied. "The people there said you didn't go back there last night, but that this was the place you had gone."

"Yep," Peter responded, and he was slightly embarrassed about not realizing he had no contact number either. "I'll be working here now, and staying here until I can afford my own place."

"Great to hear it!" Gwen exclaimed. "Is there anything we can do to help?"

"Well, I hate asking this," Peter said, lowing his voice in hopes that no one else was listening, "but do you have any spare change for the laundromat?"

Gwen's laugh came in through the phone. "Let me guess: you-know-who hasn't washed his suit for a couple of days and its starting to get ripe?"

"You know me too well," he replied.

"I should hope so," she stated. "I used to take care of that myself, if I remember correctly."

"You did, because you're the best friend a guy could ask for." Nostalgia and memories of a happier time flooded over Peter.

"Uh, right. We're friends," Gwen said, and her voice shook a little. "So, where should we meet?"

"I'll be headed down to the police station in a few minutes," he replied. "Shall we meet outside there in, say, an hour?"

"Sound's great!" Gwen replied. "See you in an hour." With that, she hung up, and Peter did likewise.

* * *

At the Daily Grind, Gwen and MJ sat eating breakfast. When Gwen had hung up the phone, MJ cast a look at her. "Everything alright?" she asked.

"Alright?" Gwen replied, giving an awkward smile that stated she was hiding something. "Why wouldn't everything be alright?"

MJ narrowed her eyes and gave a small smile. "When you said, 'we're friends' to Peter, it sounded like one of the most painful things you could have to say. Come on, girl, spill."

"Alright," Gwen said, knowing well this would not be an easily dropped topic. "Remember back when we first met, and I said that I kinda…sorta…really liked this one guy I once knew, but that it would never work out?"

"That was Peter?" MJ asked.

Gwen nodded. "Uh huh. That was shortly after we thought Peter had died, and even though I thought he was dead, I wasn't over him quite yet."

"From the sounds of things, you're not over him even now," MJ replied.

"No!" Gwen exclaimed. "I mean, yes. I mean, oh, I don't know." She groaned and placed her head in her hands. "It's all so complicated.

"It doesn't have to be," MJ replied. "When the time is right, just tell him how you feel and ask him how he feels. If he doesn't like you back, then let it drop, and if he does, well, all the better!"

"Easy for you to say," Gwen replied. "You don't risk losing a friend that way."

"Oh, come on," MJ replied. "Pete's a good guy. Even if he's not interested, you won't lose a friend."

"Maybe," Gwen sighed. "I just don't want to talk about this right now."

"Alright, then, let's not." MJ took out a sketch book. "So, I've got a few new ideas for the next line that I wanted to run by you before we chose what we're going to enter into the contest."

* * *

Peter arrived at the police station for the region early in the morning, and thankfully it didn't appear to be very crowded. There were a few officers going around, but he was able to make it in without much difficulty.

He moved up to the service desk, and the man at the service desk looked up at him. "May I help you?" he asked.

"Uh, my name is Peter David," he replied. "I was in an incident the other day, and I was asked to come here to make a statement."

"Oh, yes, I see you here," the clerk responded. "You're the Morales and Cooper case. Come along, Mr. David. The officers will see you in a moment."

As Peter moved through the station, unwanted memories crept back up on him. He remembered being fifteen years old and brought to a police station after the death of his uncle. They had questioned him and Aunt May about everything that happened and why the crook might have shot Uncle Ben. The sensation of guilt had nearly overcome him, as he did not and never would mention where he had been that night. It was just something he couldn't reveal to anyone.

The guilt left, though, and was replaced with terror when he spotted someone coming up. It was Officer DeWolff from the other day, and she was looking directly at him. Peter knew she couldn't recognize him, since he wasn't wearing his mask, and he thanked his lucky stars he had thought to web his backpack to a billboard ahead of time. However, there was still the anxiety she'd find out and have him tossed in a cell faster than he could react.

Thankfully, she didn't seem to notice. "Hey, Don," she said, greeting the clerk. "Anything new on the Spider-Man case?"

"Other than a few already caught thugs from last night, no," the clerk replied. He then gave a laugh. "Seem's Spider-Man's still as slippery as ever."

"He'll trip up eventually," DeWolff replied. "When he does, he'll be brought in to answer for what he did to Parker."

"By the way, who's this?" she asked, motioning to Peter.

"Peter David," Peter said, holding out his hand in a quick, tense fashion. He inwardly winced at his voice, which had come out somewhat like a squeak.

"He's the victim from the impersonator assault the other day," the clerk replied. "Thankfully, he got away, but Jefferson and Carlie want a word with him."

"Mostly Carlie, I'm guessing," DeWolff said with a laugh. She then turned to Peter. "Don't let her intimidate you. She's really a good officer, even if her ideas can be a bit…nutty."

"Alright," Peter said, though between the anxiety of DeWolff finding out about him and wondering what she meant by "nutty," Peter couldn't think of much else he could say. "Thanks."

The clerk then led Peter to a small interview room that was pretty barren, aside from the table and chairs in the center of the room and a billboard with dozens of wanted posters tacked to it. "Wait here," he stated, motioning to one of the chairs. "They'll be along to take your statement. Then you'll be free to go."

Peter nodded and sat down as the clerk left. He stared blankly into space for a while, but as that was not exactly the most stimulating of engagements, he got up after a few minutes and went to examine the wanted posters.

On the board were mostly pictures of common gang members, but a few of the criminals had a bit more of a dramatics to them. A mugshot of a man along with another picture of him in a black and white costume, with the name Aaron "Prowler" Davis underneath. A woman proudly holding a marker with the name Lorina Dodson on it next to a picture of her in a rabbit outfit. Some guy with a bad bowler cut next to a picture of him in a costume consisting of an over-the-top cape and green bodysuit with a fish-bowl dome over his head, with the name Quinten "Mysterio" Beck underneath. There was also a blurry pic of what appeared to be some brownish blur with the word Vulture underneath.

 _Man,_ Peter couldn't help but think, _these guys have really crawled out of the woodwork. And to think they all came after Spider-Man vanished._ He gave a snort. _Wonder if there's any connection?_

He then saw another picture pinned up, though under the others. It was a picture of Spider-Man, with the words "Caution! -Highly dangerous!" written underneath. There was also a picture of the evidence: a bloodied web-sack containing ripped up clothing. _So that's why they think I killed me,_ he thought to himself. _I'd think I was dangerous, too, if that's all I found. Doesn't make it any easier on me, though._

 _To add insult to injury,_ he thought with a sigh, _that was my favorite tee-shirt. It'll take me forever to find another Blue Beetle one.  
_

His thoughts were interrupted as the door opened. "Mr. David?" a tall, dark skinned man asked as he came into the room. He was followed in by a brown haired woman with a ponytail, and they were both wearing uniforms.

"Yes, sir?" Peter replied, turning away from the bulletin board to address the officers.

"I'm Jefferson Morales," the man introduced, "and this is my partner, Carlie Cooper. We're here to take your statement about the attack yesterday."

"Oh, right." Peter went over to the table and sat down. "What would you like me to tell?"

"Just what happened the other day will be good," Officer Cooper replied.

"Alright then," Peter said. His mind raced over how he could explain what happened without letting out his secret. "I happened to run into a man who claimed to be Captain George Stacy the other day. He seemed to think I was in trouble and offered to help me."

"Captain Stacy?" Officer Morales asked. "It couldn't have been. He was out of the city yesterday."

"I found that out just in time," Peter replied. "Thankfully, my friend Mary Jane Watson was there with her friend, Gwen Stacy. They were able to warn me that I was dealing with an imposter before it was too late."

Officer Morales nodded. "We already have the statements from Miss Watson and Miss Stacy."

"I just ran away after that," Peter continued with a shrug. "I didn't see anyone who looked like Captain Stacy after that. I did see Spider-Man fighting some sort of shapeshifter guy, for whatever that's worth, but otherwise, I've got nothing."

"You said it was a shapeshifter, right? Did it ever take the form of a green alien? You know, pointy ears and weird ridges on its chin?" Officer Cooper's question came out of nowhere.

Or, at least, it came out of nowhere for Peter. Officer Morales, however, seemed quite familiar with this train of thought. "Carlie, not right now…"

"This is serious," Carlie retorted. She then turned back to Peter. "So did it look anything like that in base form?"

"Uh, no," Peter replied. "I never saw his base form. While he was fighting Spider-Man, though, he said something about some Kravinoff guy."

Officer Cooper looked like she was about to say something else, but Officer Morales cut her off. "Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. David. You're free to go. Do you have a number of contact incase we need anything else?"

Peter nodded and wrote down the number to the lab before turning to the door. "Sorry I wasn't able to tell you anything else," he said before leaving.

"Don't worry about it," Officer Morales said. "We'll just look up the information you have. Stay safe."

"And keep a watch out for Skrulls!" Officer Cooper called out.

"Carlie…" Officer Morales groaned once more.

Peter didn't hear where the rest of the conversation went, but he had no desire to find out what a Skrull was, so he wasn't too troubled by the miss out. He hurried out of the police station, hoping that Gwen would be outside when he made it.

She was there, waiting at the bottom of the steps. To his surprise, MJ was there as well. "Hey," he said, hurrying over to join the girls. "I hope you didn't wait too long."

"Oh, no, not long at all," Gwen said, giving a laugh. "Everything go alright?"

"I suppose so," Peter replied as they started walking down the block. "One of the officers asked me if that Kravinoff guy was a Skrull, though. I have no idea what those are."

"They're supposedly alien shapeshifters," MJ replied. "Conspiracy theorists are convinced they've been infiltrating government systems for years." She gave a laugh. "Remember the last time we were commissioned to make a Skrull costume, Gwendy?"

"Oh, yeah," Gwen replied, and she laughed too. "That guy went on and on about how he was going to use it to trick their agents into getting a false sense of security."

"Remember his exact plan?" MJ asked.

Gwen nodded, and the two girls spoke at once. "'As soon as my boss sees this at the office Holiday party, I'll finally have the proof I need." They both then broke into laughter.

Peter stood back, feeling somewhat like a third wheel. Gwen seemed to notice his awkward stance and patted him on the shoulder. "Don't worry about it, Pete, it's just one of our work stories."

"So, you guys are in fashion together?" he asked, looking directly at Gwen.

"Yep," she replied. "After I helped you with…well…you know, it kind of sparked my interest."

"So _you're_ the friend that made that," MJ replied, giving a smirk.

Gwen nodded. "Yeah. You should have seen his old costume."

"Pete's already described it to me." MJ covered her mouth as she laughed. "Sweats and permanent marker. Not exactly superhero _chique_."

"Hey, I was doing the best I had with what I had," Peter protested, though internally he had to admit it wasn't the greatest of costumes.

"Thankfully, you had one of the best fifteen-year-old designer at your disposal," MJ replied.

Gwen cast MJ's smirk back at her. "Only one of the?"

"Well, the other one was still in Pennsylvania at the time," MJ stated, tossing several of her braids over her shoulder.

"So," Peter said, turning to MJ, "since I don't remember meeting you before, how did you two meet?"

"Easy: FireTrends fashion contest," she replied. "We both sent in designs that ended up in the preliminary rounds."

"We didn't win, of course," Gwen added.

MJ rolled her eyes. "Only because the whole thing was rigged."

"I don't know," Gwen replied. "Mr. Kingsly is a big-name designer now; maybe we were just out of our league."

MJ rolled her eyes. "Girl, that hack has always been overrated." She gave a laugh and turned to Peter. "I don't know if Gwen ever showed you her other designs, but they are great. She's way to modest about them."

"I know she hit it out of the park with mine," Peter said, giving a nod.

"See?" MJ leaned over to look at Gwen. "Someone else is saying it, too. It's not just me."

Gwen blushed. "You two are my best friends. You have to like my work."

"Who says?" MJ replied. "In fact, coming from us, it means double."

They soon came outside of the laundromat. "Here we are," Peter said. "Thanks again for helping out with this."

"No prob," Gwen replied.

As they entered, MJ froze. "Oh, uh, dear," she said. "I need to go to the restroom. I'll head to that bakery."

"I'll come with you," Gwen replied.

"Oh, there's no need for you to go," MJ replied. "I can get there by myself."

"Alright…" Gwen replied. When Peter had already headed in, she turned to glare at MJ. * _What are you doing?*_ she mouthed silently.

 _*Helping you!*_ MJ replied in the same fashion. She gave a thumbs up. _*Go get him! I'll be back in fifteen!*_

Gwen blushed when she realized what her friend was saying. She wasn't sure if this was the right time to confess, especially after she hadn't seen him for four years. Still, she had waited all that long ago, and she nearly lost him because of it.

Taking a breath, she headed into the building and strode up to Peter, who was checking both ways before sneaking his Spider-Man costume into a load along with an assortment of other laundry. "So, Peter," she said, deciding to work her way up to the confession. "I heard you got a new job."

"Yeah," he replied as he shut the lid and made sure it locked. "It's really great, too. It's that lab down by the docks."

"Huh, I didn't know there was a lab by the docks," Gwen said.

He gave a nod. "Yeah, it's a subsidiary for Oscorp. Maybe I'll get to see Harry sometime."

"I doubt it," Gwen replied. "He's off in Europe with his fiancée right now."

"Harry's getting married?" Peter asked. He raised an eyebrow. "Good for him."

"Yeah, and you'll never guess who," Gwen added. "It's Liz."

"Wait, Liz?" Peter looked absolutely befuddled. "As in the Liz we went to high school with?"

"Yep, that's the one," Gwen said. She gave a laugh. "Who'd have thought that all those times she kept turning him down that it would have gotten there."

"Not me," Peter replied. He gave a smirk. "Maybe it means I actually have a chance with Sally Avril after all."

"Somehow, I doubt that," Gwen replied, though Peter completely missed her tone.

They spoke for a few more minutes in a relaxed manner as the washing machine rumbled on. As they were talking, however, the door opened, causing a small beeping sound as that signaled the arrival of new potential customers. It also triggered Peter's spider-sense, which buzzed frantically in warning. Freezing, he looked this way and that to figure out what had set him off.

He soon got his answer. A dark-haired man and a blonde girl had just entered into the building. They weren't wearing their uniforms, but Peter recognized them in an instant: Molten Man and Joystick. If they found him there, there was bound to be trouble.

To be continued…


	7. Reappearing Foes

Peter's anxiety must have shown on his face, as Gwen suddenly tapped him on the shoulder. "Peter? Are you alright?"

"Huh?" Her question shook him out of his shock. He then realized that his enemies were turning to _look directly at him!_ Without hesitation, he ducked down behind the drier that separated them from the new coming villains.

"Peter?" Gwen asked, even more confused by his behavior. "What are you doing?"

"Shhh!" He raised a finger to his lips without hesitation. "Quiet down!" he called in a hissed whisper. "Come down here."

Gwen was still befuddled by what was happening, but she obeyed, crouching down alongside him. "What is it?" she asked in a matched whisper. "Why are we hiding?"

"Those newcomers," Peter replied. "I don't have time to go into explanation here, but they work for Miles Warren."

"The man who took you?" Gwen asked, and she turned pale as well.

Peter nodded. "That's the one. Hopefully, they'll move on their way-"

At that moment, his spider-sense went off again, and he dodged away, pulling Gwen along with him, just in time for the two newcomers to peer where they had just been hiding. To his dismay, this didn't quiet his spider-sense, which still buzzed just as sharp. He soon found out why.

"Well, well, Petey," a shrill, female voice said. "Imagine running into you here!"

Peter and Gwen looked up in horror to see a dark-haired girl standing behind them. They were quick to straighten up, and Peter would have bolted had the girl not instantly wrapped her arms around his neck, unceremoniously shoving Gwen aside in the process.

"Excuse me," Gwen said, putting her hand on the girl's shoulder. "Who are you?"

The girl looked in annoyance at her. "I'm Piper Dali, his girlfriend," she replied. "Now, who are you?"

"She's my friend, Piper," Peter replied, finally recovering enough from the shock to shove the assailant off. Without hesitating, he took Gwen's hand. "We've got to get out of here."

"What's your hurry, Pete?" It was the blonde girl who had spoken this time. "We've just met up, after all."

Peter looked back to see Joystick and Molten Man, or Janice and Mark, if he remembered correctly, coming up on him. His instincts told him to bolt out the door, but Morris Bench was standing outside, blocking off that route. Peter took a deep breath, feeling incredibly blocked in.

Instinctively, he moved Gwen behind him. "What do you want?" he said, doing his best to inch away from their assailants.

"You know what we came here for, Peter," Mark said, and his tone was almost apologetic.

"Then you also know my response," Peter replied. "I don't want to have to fight you, but-"

"Oh, don't worry about that," Janice, the blonde, replied with a laugh. "We can't do it right here, right now." She motioned to the several other bystanders in the laundromat. "Too many witnesses. Not that I'd have a problem, but you know the boss' thing about keeping everything under wraps."

"But you will come back, Petey," Piper said, giving a grin. "We've found you now, and we'll be watching you."

"Just thought we'd let you know," Janice said, and she gave a wave. "Ta, and see you soon." With that, the trio left.

Once they were gone, Peter felt the adrenaline fade away. He was dizzy for a moment, and even started to lean over, but was thankfully caught by Gwen.

"Peter," she said, gripping his arm to support him as she spoke, "are you alright? Who were they?"

Peter glanced over and saw, to his relief, that the washing machine was almost finished. "Once I get my costume, come back with me to the lab. I'll let it dry out in the bathroom and explain everything there."

Gwen nodded and turned to the door to keep a watch out while Peter stood guard over his washing machine. Before too long, MJ came up and joined Gwen at the door. "Is everything alright?" she asked, noting her friend's expression. "You look spooked."

"Peter's even worse," Gwen replied. "Some creeps came in here, and Peter thinks they're working for the guy who took him."

"They found him here?" MJ bit her lip. "That's not good. We'd better stay with him. It's safer in numbers."

"Agreed." Gwen glanced over her should at Peter, who was busy unloading his wet laundry into his backpack. "Poor Pete. I couldn't imagine the stress he's under."

Once he was packed up, they hurried out. Peter purposefully chose a specific route that was rather long and winding, in the hopes that would deter anyone from following. Thankfully, it appeared that this maneuver was a success, as his spider-sense didn't go off once along the way.

When they made it to the lab, the trio hurried upstairs and into his bedroom, where he was quick to shut and lock the door. "Alright, we're in private now," he said with a sigh.

"What happened back there?" Gwen asked almost instantly. She and MJ went to sit on the bed. "What did they mean that you knew what they wanted.

Peter bit his lip as he emptied out his backpack into the shower, taking care to drape the Spider-Man costume over the shower head. "They mean that they want to take me back to Warren," he replied. "They're his minions, metahumans like me he actually succeeded in getting to work with him."

"And they found you, here," MJ added.

He nodded. "I'm not really sure how," he said, coming back into the main room and leaning on the desk. "I ran into them last night, as Spider-Man. It was a close call, too. I thought they'd come at me again, as Spider-Man, but now that they've found me as Peter Parker…" He continued talking, but his voice had dropped to an inaudible volume, and it was clear from his face that unpleasant memories were being drudged up.

Gwen immediately got up when he went into that state and took his hand, which seemed to snap him out of it. "Pete, it's going to be alright," she said, looking him straight in the eye. "It just means you'll need a bit of help."

He blinked twice as he snapped out of the trance-like state, and it took him a moment to realize that Gwen was holding his hand. He looked over at her, and for the first time noted how blue her eyes were, or how they stood out so clearly when she had her hair clipped to one side. Without realizing he was doing so, he started to blush. "I-I," he stammered out, trying to recompose himself enough to respond. "I couldn't ask that of you," he stated. "These are dangerous people. I wouldn't want you to get hurt by them."

"You're not asking, I'm stating," Gwen replied. "There's no way I'm leaving you to deal with those sickos alone."

"There's no way _we're_ leaving you," MJ corrected. She got up and joined them by the desk. "Remember, you might be the metahuman, but no one's an island, and it will be better in the long run if you have some sort of help against these guys."

"After all," Gwen added, "you've got enough trouble with that Kravinoff guy already without tossing them in, too." She gave a small smile. "I think you'll need all the help you can get."

"I-" Peter started, but he was cut off by a loud _**crash**_ followed by the sound of people all talking at once. "Crud," he muttered, breaking away from the girls and grabbing the brown overalls, which had been lying neglected by the bed. "Sounds like I have work to do."

"Do you know what that was?" Gwen asked.

Peter shook his head as he got the overalls zipped up. "No idea, but considering I'm the only janitor around here, that makes it likely to be my business."

The trio hurried down stairs, where a small group had already started to congregate outside the lab. It was Anna Maria, Rosie, and Sanjani, who were standing outside one of the lab door. Anna Maria was tending to a cut on Sanjani's arm while Mrs. Octavius was writing something down. "Hey," Peter called out, hurrying over to join them. "Is everything alright?"

"I suppose so, for now," Rosie replied.

Sajani seemed a bit more shaken up. "Alright?" she asked, practically standing up in indignation. "Those filthy vermin are now loose around the equipment! Sensitive equipment!"

"Now, calm down," Anna Maria scolded. "It was freaking out that caused this injury in the first place. No need to make my job harder by moving around."

"Good to see you're here, Peter," Rosie added. "Several of Bella's specimen cases broke open, and there are mice and rats loose in there. Bella, Grady, and Otto are trying to set things right, at the moment. I'm sure they could use your help."

"Right away, ma'am," he said with a nod. He then turned to Gwen and MJ. "You guys can head home, if you want. I'm not sure how long this will be."

Without waiting for a response, he hurried into the lab, and it was only due to his spider-sense that he was able to avoid stepping on one of the mice. It scurried away, dodging out of sight, but there was still a good amount of the creatures in clear view.

"Oh, watch out!" Bella called as he entered in. "Please don't hurt them!" She had a rat in her hands, and from the way her lab coat pockets were moving, he could assume there were mice in those as well.

Otto and Grady were there as well, though they were not having as easy a time at catching the little critters. "Drat, got away again," Otto murmured as the rat he was chasing slid under a shelf. Peter noticed he that did not have the arms on, which he could only guess was because they might hurt the animals.

"Good timing, Peter," Otto called when he noticed the newcomer's entrance. "Why don't you move this shelf; it's acting as a shelter for the runaways."

"Yes, sir," Peter replied as he hurried over. Placing a shoulder to the shelf, he gave it a quick shove, and it moved over instantly, revealing two rats and a half dozen mice.

Letting his spider-sense direct his movements more than sight, Peter moved quickly and caught one of the rats and four of the mice, which he deposited in the oversized pockets of the overalls. The remaining three rushed off, though the rat was soon caught by Grady.

"Nice reflexes," he called out. "You sure you don't play games?"

"Nope, guess I was just lucky," Peter replied, though he inwardly kicked himself. _Can't use my powers too much in the open like that,_ he scolded himself.

For the rest of the hunt, he restrained himself a bit more, so as not to call too much attention to his abilities. Thankfully, there weren't that many more rodents to catch, and while it took a good half-hour to catch them all, they soon had the bunch rounded up and stashed in replacement cages.

"…12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, good," Bella said, counting the mice that had been deposited. "That looks like all of them. Thanks for the help, guys."

"No problem," Grady replied. "It was kind of my fault, anyway."

"What happened?" Peter asked as he swept up the remainder of the shattered cage.

"We were going to test the teleporter's short range abilities, using an apple so we don't kill anything," Grady explained. "It worked, too! But it also kind of sent the apple into the rat and mouse cages. At a high velocity."

Peter gave a laugh. "Well, that answers my question about the goo on the shards. Makes it a bit better to know it's just applesauce."

"I have to warn you," Otto said with a smirk, "you will have to get used to being around fruit paste. That tends to be our guinea pig of choice around here."

"Better than actual guinea pig," Peter replied.

Peter turned to sweeping up shards of glass when his spider-sense went off like it hadn't in ages. Instinctively, he ducked his head and kept it low while he waited to figure out what had set him off.

He didn't have long to wait. "Dr. Octavius," a firm voice said from the doorway. "A word."

Peter didn't have to turn around to identify the voice. Norman Osborn. Peter never knew why, and still didn't understand, but his spider-sense went off like crazy whenever he was around Harry's dad. It wasn't that Norman had ever hurt him, or at least, not that Peter knew about, but the man's presence made him anxious all the same. As was the case, he decided not to reveal his presence there, if it was possible.

While Peter was certainly the most anxious person in the room, it was clear that the others weren't happy to see him either. Bella turned around the moment she caught a glimpse of Norman and tended to several of the recently caught rats, and Grady picked up and manual and opened it so fast that he didn't notice it was upside down.

Only Otto reacted without fear, but his reaction wasn't any more positive. "Mr. Osborn," he said, and his voice held a tone of displeasure. "To what do we owe the honor of this visit."

"Dispense with the small talk, Octavius," Norman replied in an equally disdainful voice. "You know what I want to talk about, and you know we can't talk about it in front of them." He waved a hand at the three younger workers, who had peered up for a moment only to look away when they were noticed.

"Of course," Otto replied, and he cast an apologetic look back to his workers. "My lab, then." He then turned to follow Osborn out the door and up to the privacy of the lab.

The three stayed silent as their boss left with his boss, and no one dared to move a muscle until Sanjani came into the lab. After a moment, Anna Maria came in as well, followed by Gwen and MJ. "It's alright," Anna Maria called out when she noticed them. "They're upstairs. He can't hear us now."

"Oh, thank heavens," Bella said, giving a sigh of relief as she picked up the mouse third mouse cage and slid it into place. "I was worried he was here about the serum project."

Peter's curiosity was perked by the mention of a project, but he decided to quash it for now. "So, I'm guessing Mr. Osborn's visits aren't exactly…welcome."

"If he come here, its usually to chew one of us out," Grady replied. "For the most part, Otto defends us, but it's common knowledge that most everyone who end up here does so before of some sort of disgrace."

"I see," Peter said, and for manners sake, he decided to let it drop there.

"Is everything alright in here?" Gwen asked, going to help Peter move the garbage back to its original position. "Did you catch all the mice?"

"Uh, yeah," he replied, somewhat surprised by the question. "Weren't you guys heading home?"

"No," MJ corrected, " _you_ said we could go home. _We_ decided to stay around and get a look at your new workplace." She gave a thumbs up. "Pretty classy, if I do say so myself."

Sanjani looked like she was about to say something, but was cut off by Anna Maria. "It's alright, I told them they could come," the doctor stated, not even bothering to look up as she put her supplies away. "They wanted to speak to Peter, and I didn't see the harm."

Sanjani turned with a huff back to her own equipment. If the others wanted to fraternize with outsiders, that was their business.

"Hello," Bella said, holding out her hand to the two newcomers. "I'm Bella Fishbach, and this is Grady Scraps."

"Hey," Grady said with a wave.

"Nice to meet you," Gwen replied. "My name is Gwen Stacy."

"Mary Jane Watson," MJ added. "My friends call me MJ, though."

"Pleased to meet you," Bella greeted.

Grady, however, paused for a moment, as if in awe. "No way," he said, and a grin spread out across his face. "No way! You're the Gwen Stacy and MJ Watson? As in, the Cosplay Queens of Queens?!"

"The what?" both Anna Maria and Bella said in unison.

Grady gave his two coworkers a stair of disbelief. "You mean to tell me you have never heard of the greatest team of cosplay costume makers in in all of NYC? They were the ones who made my Thor costume last year!"

"I'm still a little fuzzy on what cosplay is," Bella replied. "That was a nice costume, though."

"Cosplay would be costuming, usually for conventions or the like," MJ replied. She turned to Grady. "It's always nice to hear from a happy customer."

"It's always great to meet talented artists!" Grady responded, shaking her hand heartily.

He then turned to Peter. "How do you know them?"

Peter, who had not been expecting such a reaction, was somewhat taken. "Uh, well, Gwen and I are old friends," he said, "and I met MJ a little while ago. They've been helping me to get back onto my feet for a while."

"It's great to see you've settled into a nice place," Gwen stated, going over to join Peter.

"Here's hoping I don't mess things up," Peter added with a nervous chuckled.

"You've been a tremendous help so far," Bella stated. "Why would you think you'll mess up?"

"It's…just kind of been my luck," he replied. "Usually, when something good comes around, something happens that messes it up." He gave another chuckle.

Anna Maria shook her head as she joined. "Luck doesn't exist; all things happen for a reason. Whatever's going to happen, it's for the best. That said," she added with a smile, "it is nice to have a janitor who's actually willing to do some work once in a while. I doubt Dr. Octavius will be letting go of you any time soon."

* * *

While the younger workers were chatting among themselves, Otto was looking at the prospect of a much less enjoyable conversation. He and Norman had headed up to Otto's private lab so they could speak alone, and at the moment, he was choosing to give his attention more to the mechanical arms hooked up in their charging base than to the businessman with him.

"You know why I'm here, Otto," Norman stated. "I've been telling you to take this case for a year now."

"Yes, a year," Otto replied, and a mirthless smile crept across his face. He still chose to attend more to the twisting robotic limbs, though he spoke directly to the other man. "A year since you banished me and anyone who sided with me to the sidelines, as well as spreading rumors about my sanity."

"Oh, come now, Octavius," Norman replied with a laugh. "You did that to yourself, what with your constant use of those arm, and the attention you give them. The attention you're given them now." The businessman leaned back in his chair with a smirk. "The fact that you took those danger prone hacks with you as well doesn't help your case."

Hearing the insult to his employees, Otto visibly bristled, though he kept his tone. "You know as well as I do that my workers are each top of their respective fields, Osborn."

"Oh, indeed," Norman replied with a sarcastic grin. "And what a team you have! A mechanic who blows up more inventions than he makes, a ditzy bleeding-heart biologist who gets too attached to her samples, and an asocial astrophysicist who gives off the impression she'd rather be in space than wherever she is at the moment. A fine crack, team." He rolled his eyes. "They're all geniuses, true, but Dr. Marconi is the only one with any amount of professionalism, which only barely visible due to her size."

Otto's smile vanished at the insult, melting into a sneer. "Are you just here to insult my workers or is there an actual purpose to this visit."

"As I said," Norman stated, "you already know."

"OZ," Otto replied.

"Indeed." Norman's expression grew quite serious. "We were on the right path with it when, unfortunately, the biologist who had the best success with it up and left due to loyalty issues."

"The biologist you, just moments ago, called a ditzy bleeding-heart," Otto pointed out.

"I do question Ms. Fishbach's treatment of her subjects, but it is unquestionable she had the best track record with those spiders," Norman stated. "Until then, we had occasional successes with no way of repeating them. The one complete success was stolen by a faithless worker."

"Of course, others would have been able to help more if they had any idea of what that 'complete success' was," Otto replied with a laugh.

Norman stiffened at the comment. "As I have told you before, that is completely classified, but that is not the point."

"The point being that you want Bella to drop everything she's doing and turn her attention to your little super soldier project," Otto responded. He reached into a drawer pulled out a handful of batteries, which he "fed" to the eager actuators through a small slot beneath their LED center. "As it is, she's already working on the teleporter project with Grady, and until that is finished, there's nothing that can be done. After all, they are working for _your_ customer."

"Actually, about that," Norman said, and the careless smile returned, "the teleporter project is being reassigned. It was decided that this project would be better suited in the Oscorp Alpha division."

When he heard the comment, Otto spun around. "You can't do that!" he shouted. "Grady was the one who came up with the teleportation project in the first place. To reassign it now would be practical theft!"

"The teleporter does not belong to Mr. Scraps, it belongs to Oscorp," Norman replied. "And who does Oscorp belong to?"

Otto fumed when he heard the comment, and the arms, responding to their master's mood, reared up and readied for a fight. For the briefest of moments, the look of a wild man came into Otto's face, and it appeared as if he would order an attack right that minute.

He restrained himself, however, and motioned for the arms to lower. "Fine," he said with a hiss. "We'll take the OZ case, _if_ you allow the teleporter project to stay here."

"You misinterpret the situation, Octavius," Norman replied. "The teleporter project is already gone. Workmen will be here in the morning to retrieve what you have and take it to the Alpha division. You will take the OZ case, because if you don't, you and everyone who works for you will be out on the streets." He gave a smirk. "Sometimes you forget, so I have to remind you: everything in this lab belongs to me. The materials, the tech, even the researchers. They are mine to utilize as I please. Or, if I decide, to destroy."

"Why you-!" Otto shouted out, and in a moment, the upper right arm, Gamma, lashed out and wrapped itself around Norman.

Osborn, for his part, did not seem surprised by the action. "Remember, Otto," he stated, "you're about to kill me in a very identifiable manner. What would happen to your wife if it got out her husband was a dangerous lunatic?"

For a few moments, Otto froze, as if contemplating his options. Finally, he sighed, and motioned for the arm to let Osborn go."\

"So," Norman laughed as he turned to leave, "still as much the spineless octopus as ever. Good to know." Having said his piece, he turned to leave Otto to bemoan his current state.

* * *

In a small warehouse about a mile away from the lab, the four hunters sat, discussing their next course of action. "I say we go right now, take him now!" Hydroman insisted. "He's right there! We can get him and be finished with this right now!"

"And attract the attention of Norman Osborn because we trashed one of his labs?" Molten Man asked. He crossed his arms and shook his head. "Jackal told us to keep undercover, remember?"

"So we just sit there and do nothing?" Hydroman snapped in response.

"I'm with Morrie," Paper Doll added. "I say we get him now. Why let him recuperate and leave him sitting pretty?"

"But don't you see?" Joystick replied. "He's not sitting pretty."

"Oh, yeah?" Hydroman smashed his arm down on the table, and underestimating the strength of the blow, caused the limb to splash into a variety of droplets, which were quick to reform. "Then why are we letting him sit in that lab like we didn't know? Answer that one?"

"Simple." Joystick casually filed her nails as she spoke. "He's expecting us now. We've taken his peace of mind, which will make him paranoid. That will be for our benefit, but we need to wait until at least tomorrow morning, after the paranoia and the night's patrol has worn him out a bit."

"Once he's worn down tomorrow, we grab him early in the morning," Molten Man stated. "He won't be in a state to defend himself, so it'll be easy."

"What's more," he added, "we've gotten intel that Osborn's going to have some major project transported tomorrow, so we'll take that as a cover story, and no one will suspect why we really went there."

"Then we bring him and the doo-dad in, and it's off to the next mission," Paper Doll said. She gave a slight eye roll and leaned forwards onto the table. "The pattern's so trite, and this game is fun. I say we let Peter run a little first before catching him."

"We tried that last time," Joystick pointed out. "This time, we don't give him any outs. Once we catch him, he's unconscious or in the cage. We can't risk another escape."

"Agreed," Molten Mad said with a nod. He then turned to head to one corner, where several cots were laid out.

"Where are you off to?" Paper Doll asked when she noticed his direction. "It's four in the afternoon."

"I'm getting some rest," he replied. "I'd recommend you do, too. We'll be after Spider-Man in tomorrow morning, so if we can have an advantage against him, all the better." With that, he went off to bed, leaving his teammates to make the decisions for themselves.

To be continued…


	8. Chapter 8

Peter was running, and he could hear it catching up to him. The sound of rushing water was clear behind him, and he didn't have to question what was happen if he didn't keep running. Keeping the pace, he ran through the maze, desperate to find the way out.

As he turned, he soon came up to a dead end. The way was about twenty feet tall, though, and it would take him a fraction of a second to scale it and leap to safety. He moved fast, hurrying to get up before it was too late.

When he was halfway up, though, his wall crawling stopped working, and he started to slip. "What?! No! Not now!" he exclaimed in horror. He could hear the water coming up on him, and he knew there was no other escape. He tried to scramble up the wall again, but the same problem returned. He didn't even make it halfway when he tumbled down and was enveloped by an icy wave.

He then opened his eyes, and found to his relief that it was just a dream. He was in his room at the lab, and the clock next to the bed blinked 4:02. _Great,_ he thought to himself. _Just a half hour of sleep. That's going to do you wonders tomorrow._

He sat up and rubbed his eyes before lying down again. There was no reason to get up; he'd have to get some sleep if he was going to be of any use in the morning. Of course, the nightmares had to come back.

 _You know exactly why they came back, Parker,_ he told himself. _It's because they found both Spider-Man and Peter Parker. You're not safe here._

The memories of the false deaths he had been put through flooded back, and a dread filled him. If the Jackal was able to take him, there would be a thousand more like them to experience, and that was the last thing Peter wanted. If Warren's attack-dogs knew where he was, there was the strong chance he'd be taken back.

Peter's stomach turned as he realized that meant leaving the lab, and likely leaving MJ and Gwen behind, too. He couldn't endanger them by sticking around, and he couldn't let them uproot themselves to come with him. _Looks like you're on your own again, Parker,_ he groaned to himself. _Just wonderful._

Turning over in his bed, he tried to go over what he was going to tell Dr. Octavius in the morning as a way of driving the nightmares off. It was going to have to be something convincing, but not too convenient. He didn't need anyone probing into where he was going. _And I really liked this job, too,_ he bemoaned as he tried to drift off.

* * *

Unbeknownst to Peter, he was not the only one having difficulty sleeping that night. Otto was seething from his conversation with Norman, and had been ever since the businessman had left. He had wanted to alert the tech workers, especially Grady, to what was going to happen tomorrow, but he had needed time to cool off to avoid taking anger out on them, and by the time he was ready, everyone had headed out. Even Peter had run off somewhere.

 _Which means now you're going to have a few minutes to explain why we're down a project,_ he thought to himself. A dark scowl had spread across his face, and he had to set himself to work of cutting up the scrap metal that was too rusted to be of any use. It was the only job he was in any mindset to work on.

As he worked, the arms moved individually, each at their own jobs. Beta helped to steady the large pieces while Gamma worked the laser. Delta and Epsilon moved quickly to replace the finished pieces, separating them out into junk and workable materials. As they worked, the arms stayed completely synchronized with each other. They didn't dare not to; not while the alpha was in such a mood.

Since he was in such a mindset, Otto didn't notice as someone came into the lab. "Otto, are you alright?"

"What do you want?" he snapped, then regretted it once he realized it was only Rosie. "Oh, I'm sorry, my dear." He turned back to the scrap. "I'm…just working off some steam."

"I can tell," Rosie replied as she looked over the pile. "You're usually pretty tense whenever Osborn comes around, but you're usually in bed by now. What happened?" She walked over and placed a hand on his shoulder. "You can tell me."

Otto turned and forced a smile for his wife's sake. "It's nothing, just a bad mood."

"I've been married to you for thirty years," she said, running her hand over a large amount of workable material that had been placed in the junk pile, "and you only get this sloppy with cutting when something's bothering you badly. What is it?"

Otto sighed, realizing he wasn't going to hide things from his wife. He motioned to the arms to take a break before turning to her. "He's taking the teleporter project, Rose. He's sending men in the morning to pack it up and send it off to the Delta division."

"But Grady and Bella came up with this project!" Rosie exclaimed. "They've done everything about this project for over three years! They can't take it now."

"They can, and they will," Otto replied in a dark tone. Another wave of anger came over him, sending the arms into shaking fits. "They'll be here tomorrow, and there's nothing I can do about it."

Seeing the state her husband was getting into, Rosie came closer and embraced him. This had the desired effect, as he started to calm down. "It's not fair," she said, holding him close, "but we'll live on. We'll find a way."

"I know," he replied, returning the embrace. "It's just…oh, I can't stand Osborn!"

"You never have been able too," Rosie stated. She gave a small laugh. "From the moment you started working for Oscorp you haven't liked him."

"I'd quit in a heartbeat if I thought I could find work elsewhere," Otto said, recalling the arms and turning back to the work. "Unfortunately, we don't have that kind of money yet."

"So," Rosie said after a moment's pause, "I'd assume Norman gave some replacement project. He can't just take a primary project without even some sort of sham to take its place."

Otto nodded but didn't look up from his work. "He's sending the OZ project here."

"The copy of the super-soldier serum?" she asked. "Why that?"

"Obviously, no one knows what Erskine did to make the first serum," Otto answered, "but in recent years, Oscorp has had some breakthroughs with a formula comprised of the venom harvested from genetically-altered spiders. Bella used to be on that project, right before we left, and according to Osborn, she was close to developing a testable serum."

"But wasn't the OZ a failure on the animal subjects?" Rose asked.

Otto nodded. "Yes, it was. There were instances of increased strength and speed, but also of insanity. The test subjects became unstable and dangerous, and all of them needed to be put down." The doctor sighed before setting aside the metal. "Osborn claims there was one perfect test subject, but he is incredibly secretive about it. He won't tell anyone what it was or what was being done with it. Only that it was stolen, and we need to start again." He gave a dry laugh. "I suspect he's lying, and this is all busywork."

"Whatever it is, we'll push through," Rosie said, touching his shoulder. "Now come on, off to bed."

"I suppose you're right," Otto conceded with a sigh. He shut down the equipment and then turned to remove the arm harness. "I'll be along soon."

* * *

By six o'clock, Peter finally gave in. He had gotten only bits and pieces of sleep that night, and what he did have was overrun with nightmares. Surrendering to the inevitable, he forced himself up at the early hour and headed out to the kitchen.

There, he found a single serve coffee machine. He couldn't really remember if he had ever liked coffee, but he supposed that at the moment, even if he didn't, he could choke a cup of it down for the energy boost. Selecting a packet of coffee marked New Orleans blend, he set the device to work brewing up a cup.

While the coffee machine was at work, Mrs. Octavius came down into the kitchen. "Good morning, Peter," she greeted. "I hope you slept well."

"Had a bit of trouble with that," he admitted with a shrug. "I'm hoping coffee will help."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Rosie replied as she gathered some supplies for breakfast. "Would you like something to eat? Eggs, toast, cereal?"

"I'll have some eggs, if you don't mind," he replied. The coffee had finished brewing by then, so he pulled it out prepped it with cream and sugar. It wasn't that bad, though it wasn't his favorite. Still, the caffeine was really what he was after, so it still worked out.

A little while later, while he and Rosie were eating breakfast, Otto came down. By the look of him, he had spent the night in the same state Peter had, and it didn't look like the morning had improved his mood.

"Would you like something to eat, dear?" Rosie called over to him from the table.

Otto tried to force a smile, but it was clear that it was put on only for his wife's sake. "Just some fruit. They'll be here any minute, and I want to be able to explain what's happening to Grady and Bella when they arrive."

"They?" Peter asked, and the moment the word had come out, he regretted asking it. "Sorry, none of my business."

"No, I suppose to some degree it is," Otto replied with a sigh. "Oscorp is…rearranging some projects. The teleportation machine is being moved out and Bella's getting a new project."

"New project, huh?" Peter said with a slight laugh. "Just as long as it's not too creepy."

"Depends on how you feel about spiders," Otto stated in response.

The moment he had said this, Peter dropped his fork in shock. For a brief moment the fear that his boss had discovered his secret identity slammed down in him. He was able to shake it off, though, and thankfully his shock was missed as a doorbell rang. "The vipers are here already," Otto groaned, and he went off to deal with the Oscorp agents.

"Well, I'd better get dressed," Peter said, gathering up his dishes and finishing the coffee in a gulp. "If things are getting moved around, then they might need me."

"Good thinking," Rosie replied, nodding with approval.

Once he made it to his room, Peter slipped the Spider-Man costume on under his clothes. Like usual, the mask and gloves were tucked into the waste of his pants, and he pulled a long sleeve shirt on over that. Once he was in his regular clothes, he retrieved his jumpsuit, which had been cleaned in the washing machine at the lab after the rodent incident.

Just as Peter had expected, the arrival of the workmen had caused an amount of chaos. About a half dozen workmen had started to dismantle the teleportation system, pulling the pieces out to the cars waiting outside.

In the meanwhile, the other workers had arrived, and Grady and Bella were struggling to save their project, to no avail. "Come on, we made this!" Grady exclaimed, trying to stop one of the workmen from hauling away one of the larger pieces.

"Mr. Osborn's orders," the workman replied, jerking away from the engineer and pulling the machine back with him.

"Hey," Peter called out, hurrying over to join Grady.

"Oh, hey, Pete," Grady replied, and it was clear he was in dismay.

"I heard about what's happening," Peter said, struggling to think of anything he could say that would help. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Unless you can come up with a new project or get them to stop taking everything, then no," Grady said with a scowl. After a moment, he seemed to realize what he just said. "Sorry, I shouldn't take things out on you. It's not your fault."

"No worries," Peter replied. "I can imagine this is rough."

"You're telling me," Grady replied. He gave a huff. "Bells and I have been working on this project for over a year, and they decide to take it away, all so they can shift the OZ project back on her."

When he heard the term "OZ," the hairs on the back of Peter's neck stood on end. "Did you say 'OZ?'"

"Yeah," Grady replied with a nod, though he hadn't noticed his companion's reaction to the name. "It's one of Osborn's pet projects, but it hasn't gone anywhere as of late-hey! You can't handle that so roughly! It'll break!" With that, the engineer dodged off to try to save a bit of his dismantled project.

Peter hardly noticed him run off. His mind was still reeling from the reappearance of OZ in his life. He could recall the name of the very chemical that the spider that bit him had been exposed to. The chemical that had caused his life to change so much. If there was going to be experimentation with OZ here, then there was a chance that people would discover the chemical in his bloodstream, and if they found that out…well, he didn't want to think of how that would result.

The chaos of the workers, the shock of the coming project, and the sleepless night he had previously had started to take its toll on Peter, and in a moment he felt his head swim and spots appeared in front of his eyes. Not wanting to cause anyone trouble, he moved behind a few of Bella's biology shelves to the storage area behind it in an attempt to get out of everyone's way so he could catch his breath before he fainted.

Unfortunately, he wasn't as successful as he would have supposed. Bella was already there herself, crying her eyes out. For a moment, Peter considered backtracking before things became awkward, but it was too late, and Bella had already noticed him.

"Oh, I'm _*sniff*_ sorry," She said, quickly drying her eyes with one hand while holding her glasses in the other. "I'll just…just…" It was clear that she was trying to hold back more tears, and was failing miserably.

Peter never really felt comfortable when women cried around him, a fact that both Aunt May and Gwen had commonly commented on. Still, he didn't want to leave Bella when she was so clearly in a state of distress. "Hey, it's alright," he said, trying to think of something he could do. "Uh, is everything fine with you?"

"Yeah…yeah," she replied, still wiping her face. "It's nothing." She still was trembling, and it was clear she wasn't finished crying.

"Oh, uh, alright," he said. Still, he felt bad about not doing anything to help, so he reached over and patted her shoulder. "Uh, alright. I heard about your new project, by the way. Congratulations."

He had been attempting to select a topic that might cheer his coworker up. Instead, she looked at him with a blank expression for a moment before starting to cry again. "Oh, this is all my fault!"

Not quite sure what he did but instantly regretting it, Peter reached over and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Hey, hey, it's not your fault."

"Yes it is," she replied. "If I hadn't worked on that stupid OZ project, then they wouldn't be taking the transporter away from Grady. That project means so much to him." She paused to blow her nose. "If I hadn't worked on the OZ, then I could continue to help him, instead of having him lose his project just so I could be moved."

Now that he had a better handle on the issue, Peter grew a bit more confident with what he could do, though he was still rather awkward about it. "Oh, is that it? Well, like I said before, it's not your fault. Oscorp decides who works on what. There was nothing you could do to change it."

"I know," Bella said. "It's just that I-"

Before she could go on any farther, Peter's spider-sense went off, accompanied closely by the sound of commotion as someone pushed their way into the building. "Alright," a young man called out. "We're here for the tech that's getting transported. Just give it to us and we won't have a problem."

More discussion went on, but Peter didn't hear it. His blood had turned to ice as he recognized the voice: Mark Allen, otherwise known as Molten Man. If he was here, then the other hunters sent by the Jackal would be with him.

Peter's hand instinctively went to the section of his chest covered by the spider emblem, but he stopped himself when he realized Bella was still with him. He'd have to slip away from her first if he was going to change.

Without saying a word, he started edging towards the one exit to the storage area, hoping he'd have some chance to get away without Bella noticing. He had no such luck.

"What's going on out there?" Bella asked in a hushed voice, grabbing Peter's arm as she came up with him.

Internally groaning at his failure, Peter switched to pretending he had been trying to get a look. "I'm not sure," he replied. "It's kind of hard to hear."

Once he was able to peer around the corner, he realized that most of the interactions were happening at the entryway, almost at the other end of the building. Sure enough, his pursuers were there, or at least three of them were. The head workman must have attempted to confront the metahumans, because a number of the workers were unconscious (Peter hoped) or in hiding. Grady, Anna Maria, and Sanjani had been backed into a corner by Joystick, who was leering at them with anticipation, and Otto seemed to be trying to reason with Hydroman and Molten Man, both of whom were circling him like vultures.

Peter bit his lip, knowing he had to do something, but he couldn't take Bella with him. "It looks like we're being attacked," he stated. "Stay here, I'm going to see if there's anything I can do."

"No way I'm staying alone," she replied, holding his arm tighter. "Besides, I can help."

"With what I'm going to do might be our only hope, but it's also pretty stupid," Peter stated, attempting to shake his arm free. "You'll be safer if you stay here."

Before anything else could be said, there was a high-pitched giggle, and Peter's spider-sense went off like crazy. "Oh, ever the gentleman, aren't you, Petey? Of course, that's one the things I've always loved about you."

"Move!" he shouted, grabbing Bella's wrist and attempting to pull her away. Unfortunately, their one avenue of escape was blocked off as Paper Doll emerged from the wall, blocking the way. In an instant, she lunged at Peter, who started to dodge out of the way. However, he realized that movement would put Bella in harm's way, so he hesitated, giving the villainess the opportunity to grab him.

In a moment, he was tangled up in Paper Doll's rope-like limbs binding his arms to his sides, and she started constricting the strands around his neck and chest. It became a struggle for him to breathe, and spots began to dance in front of his eyes as the strangulation went into effect.

Paper Doll seemed to take his pain with some amount of amusement. "There, there," she said in an almost comforting voice, reaching up and stroking his hair at the same time. "You just black out like a good boy and we'll go back home soon."

Bella, for her part, had been knocked aside when they were jumped, and Paper Doll had taken no notice of her. However, when she saw what the attacker was doing to Peter, she knew she couldn't just sit still and do nothing. Moving fast, she snatched a Bunsen Burner lighter off one of the shelves and moved closer to Paper Doll. With a swift move, she grabbed a handful of the villainess' hair and struck the lighter. The flint gave off sparks, which cause the hair to catch on fire.

Paper Doll noticed near instantly and gave a cry, dropping Peter in her panic. He fell to the ground and took a deep gulp of air, and attempted to lie still as his vision cleared.

There was no time, however, as Bella snatched up his hand as soon as he was free and took off. "Come on!" she shouted, half leading, half dragging him away. "We've got to-iieep!"

She had attempted to run into the main lab area, but that had proven a bad idea. Just as she had rounded the bend, she was almost hit by Sanjani, who had been sent flying by a blow from Joystick. The blonde aggressor seemed to notice them as well, as she gave a cruel grin and started moving in their direction.

Without a second thought, Bella also grabbed Sanjani's hand and pulled both her stunned companions into the nearby chemical storage closet. After shoving them both in, she hurried and slammed the door shut behind her. "This won't hold for too long," she stated, gripping the doorknob and leaning back to keep the door wedged shut. "What do we do now?"

Having recovered from his ordeal, Peter began examining the chemicals on the shelf to see if there wasn't anything he could use. That's when he spotted a bright blue bottle with a spigot on the bottom. "Is this Dormiennix?"

"Yeah," Bella replied with a nod. "I put it in the lizard's food when I need them to go into hibernation fast. It's the only non-toxic gentle-freeze I know of."

"Then that's just what I need," Peter replied. Grabbing the bottle, he tore the top off it and found it half empty. Going over the various other chemicals in the closet, he grabbed this and that and started mixing everything in the Dormiennix.

"What do you think you're doing?" Sanjani asked, making sure to stay as far away from him as possible. "Don't play around with these things! They could be dangerous!"

"I'm not playing around," Peter replied. "I'm enhancing the Dormiennix into a new compound, Dormienglacies. It's still harmless, but stronger and faster acting." Finishing the compound, he screwed the top back on the bottle and gave it a good shake. "There. Are there any spray bottles in here?"

"Top shelf," Sanjani replied, reaching for an empty beaker she could use as a weapon in an emergency. "Just hurry."

"Got it," Peter said. Jumping up, he reached out and snatched the bottles up. There was five smaller bottles there, just enough to fill each about third of the way. "Here!" he called out, tossing two bottles to his companions and slipping the original bottle into his pocket. "When we get out of-Get away from the door!"

"What do you-?" Sanjani stated to ask, but she was cut off as Bella let out a shriek.

The trio turned to see Paper Doll slithering under the crack in the door. "You skank!" she snarled, entwining her hand around Bella's ankle. "You set my hair on fire!"

"Quick, hit her with the ice!" Peter called out.

Bella had frozen in terror, but Sanjani figured out what he meant without too much trouble. Aiming her own bottle directly at Paper Doll's face, she sprayed out the compound.

In a second, Paper Doll released her grip on Bella in favor of slapping her hands to her face. Ice crystals began to form between her hands and face, and she was forced to slither back.

"That's potent stuff," Sanjani said, looking down at the bottle in her hand.

"It forms ice as soon as it's anywhere near warm," Peter replied. "I know it's a paradox, but I don't have time to explain." Leaping from the top of the shelves, he opened the door and rushed out. "Get those bottles to the others! I'll catch up later!"

"Wait, where are you going?" Bella asked.

"To get help," Peter replied, placing a hand over the emblem on his chest.

To be continued…


	9. Chapter 9

When the attack had started, it had initially gone unnoticed. The four metahumans were able to sneak in on the very principle that things were already astir. The Oscorp movers didn't know who all worked at the lab and vice versa, so when they were initially seen, each group assumed they were with the other.

That was, however, until Molten Man activated his power. Changing form, a thin layer of magma formed around his skin, and he shot up a small fireball to gain attention. "Alright, we're here for the tech that's getting transported. Just give it to us and we won't have a problem."

"This tech belongs to Oscorp, and we're taking it there," the head workman stated. "No yahoo's gonna tell me otherwise."

"Wanna bet?" Hydroman asked, giving a crooked grin. He lashed out, striking the head workman hard with a wall of water, knocking him out. A few of the other workmen tried to rush in to help their boss, but they were no match for the metahumans. Before long, the few still around were cowering back.

"So, you guys wanna jump in?" Joystick asked, leering at the scientists.

Seeing the danger, Otto stepped forwards, attempting to come between the maniacs and his workers. "Alright, stay calm," he said, raising his hands. "No one wants trouble."

"We don't want it either," Molten Man stated.

Hydroman gave a spiteful chuckle. "He means _he_ doesn't want trouble. The rest of us are just fine with it."

While the conversation was going on, Paper Doll slipped off to look for her target. She heard some moving behind several of the shelves, and she had no doubt she'd find her quarry there.

"Now, just take what you want and leave," Otto stated, still trying to keep attention off Grady, Anna-Maria, and Sanjani, who had been backed into a corner by the leering Joystick. "We're not going to stop you."

"Of course not," Hydroman said with a snort. "It's not like any of you could."

"Now just-" Otto started, but they were cut off by the sound of a scuffle happening behind several shelves that ended in a shriek.

Taking advantage of the sudden confusion, Sanjani attempted to make a break for it. Unfortunately, she was caught by Joystick, who tossed her across the lab. At the same time, Grady and Anna-Maria attempted to come up on the villainess at once, but they were quickly overpowered, not only by Joystick, but also by Hydroman, who had rushed in at the same time.

The two were knocked aside and enveloped in a wall of water. They desperately held their breath as they were encased and struggled to get out. However, Hydroman was used to his task, and had no intention of letting his prey escape.

Seeing what was happening to his employees, Otto attempted to rush to their aid. However, he was struck across the face by one of Joystick's batons, and she was quick to follow up by tossing him aside.

Molten Man, however, was not alright was with plan of action. "Come on, let them go," he stated. "We need to take this stuff, and Paper Doll probably has the _other_ target. There's no need to kill this time."

"Oh, come on," Hydroman replied. "Just because _you're_ determined to have a kill free record doesn't mean we have-"

"No! Stop!" In a moment, Bella raced up to the villain. She had a spray bottle in one hand and two more nestled under the other arm. Reacting fast, she sprayed directly into Hydroman's chest. He was shocked by the act, leaving him defenseless for a minute, and that was all the time needed. A sheet of ice started to spread out across him, startling him enough to release his hold on Grady and Anna Maria, and the two slumped to the ground, gasping for breath.

Bella was quick to respond, shoving all the bottles into her large lab coat pockets and snatching up the hands of her friends. She was quick to pull them behind a row of shelves to get them to safety before any of the attackers would come after them.

As soon as they were safe, she shoved a bottle of the ice solution into each of their hands. "Here," she said. "Peter whipped this up, so we could defend ourselves."

"Peter?" Grady asked. "As in, our janitor?"

"Yeah," Bella replied with a nod. "Turns out he's a pretty good chemist. Who would have guessed?"

At that moment, Joystick revealed that she had snuck up on them, leaping out at them and lashing with her baton. The three scientists were forced to react fast, using the spray bottles as fast as they could. The sudden unleash of cold stunned the villainess, who was temporarily frozen stiff.

"We'll discuss Peter's achievements later," Anna Maria called out as she raced out from behind the shelf. "Come on!"

Bella and Grady did not need to be told twice. They ran out behind the doctor, and had only just slipped away as the sound of the ice breaking off of Joystick rang through the building.

Once free, they were able to meet up with Otto and Sanjani, who were doing their best to fend off Molten Man and Hydroman. Unfortunately, Joystick then caught up, racing around to block off the exit, and a sufficiently recovered Paper Doll came in to enclose the circle.

"Alright, I've had just about enough of-!" Hydroman started, but he was cut off as a small ball of webbing shot through him, landing on the floor in front of him. As soon as it landed, ice began expanding outwards, making it clear the webs had been soaked in the ice fluid.

At the same time, Spider-Man leaped down, grabbing Joystick before leaping up and webbing her to the wall with more ice webs. "Alright, how about you just stick around?" he said before leaping back down, ignoring the curses she was shouting at him.

"Spider-Man?" Otto asked, and he was quick to try to get between his workers and the supposed killer. "What are you doing here?"

"Do you want to ask questions, or do you want to get out of here?" Spidey asked, not bothering to turn around, as he was too busy trying not to get ensnared by Paper Doll.

Otto nodded, before turning to the workers. "Come on, get outside!"

There wasn't any argument, and the trio hurried out from the lab to the antechamber to out on the dock. Otto himself, however, rushed up the stairs as soon as he got into the antechamber and headed right to his lab.

Inside, Rosie was already at work getting the arms ready. "When I heard the commotion, I supposed you'd need them," she said when she saw him coming in.

A wave of fondness overcame Otto, and he kissed his wife before going over to the arms. "You know me all too well."

"I should hope so," Rosie replied, giving a smirk. Her expression then changed. "Where are the kids?"

"Peter's missing, but Anna, Grady, Bella, and Sanjani are outside," he answered. "I would recommend you get there, too."

She nodded, but before hurrying out, she turned back to him. "Please be careful," she said, giving a sad smile.

"When am I ever not?" he asked with a small laugh.

* * *

"It's about time you showed up, Spider-Man," Hydroman commented. He had broken free from the frozen portion of his body, but the lab's sprinklers had started to go off because of Molten Man's fires, so he was more than replenished. "We were starting to think you were going to miss the party." He then launched a water ball at the hero.

"Really, a surprise party? For me?" Spidey asked, and he shook his head, before leaping himself off the wall. "Really, you shouldn't have."

He had to leap up again in an instant, as Paper Doll lunged at him as soon as he had touched the ground. Unfortunately, having soaked his web cartridges in the ice fluid to change them into ice webs meant that web swinging was a no-go until he changed them out, so he'd have to hope that his own physical prowess was going to be enough to defend himself with.

His path, unfortunately, brought him in close to Molten Man, who struck out at the hero's chest, burning through the costume and searing the skin underneath. "I'm sorry," he said, and he sounded rather genuine. "I didn't want to do this."

"Then don't do it," Spider-Man replied, shooting off two web balls at Molten Man, which chilled him off in an instant.

Now freed, Spidey backed up for a moment and took a second to evaluate his injury. He was lucky; it was only a second-degree burn. With his healing factor, it would heal up no problem. Unfortunately, it was going to hurt for a while, and he had to resist the temptation to put an ice web over it, since he knew that would just cause more damage in the long run.

He only had that second to think about it, though, as he was soon forced to leap higher to avoid Paper Doll, who had snuck up to the wall behind him. "Don't worry, Spidey," he said in a sing-song voice. "We don't want to kill you; no, we're just taking you back home."

"Ugh, I think I'd rather you killed me," Spider-Man replied, shooting off an ice web target at her foot, pinning her down. "Why don't you stay put for a-"

Before he had the opportunity to finish what he was saying, a warning rang through his spider-sense, and he realized it was one of those no-win rock-and-a-hard-place scenarios. Dodging quickly to the left, he shot off two ice webs to extinguish the fireball that had exploded to his right. This, unfortunately, sent him straight into the path of a water ball, which stunned him enough to send him tumbling to the ground.

He was given only a second to recover from the blow, as he was forced to leap across the room to avoid getting impaled by one of Joystick's batons. "Joystick! What the heck?!" Molten Man called out when he saw the strike. "We're supposed to bring him in alive, remember?"

"Oh, chill out," Joystick responded with a sneer. "You and I both know that wouldn't have killed him."

"Maybe not," Spider-Man said, shooting off impact-ice webs at the two of them, "but I'd rather avoid being made into spider-kabobs, if that's possible."

Hydroman then gathered up all his strength to charge at Spider-Man, forcing the hero to leap up onto a wall to avoid the charge. Unfortunately, that put him within reach of Paper Doll, who then launched herself at him and came dangerously near to entrapping him.

Her success, however, had been interrupted. She was grabbed by the ankles by a set of robotic actuators and was crumpled up in a moment before being tossed into a specimen containment device. "There," Dr. Octavius said, placing the container to one side. "That should hold you until the police arrive."

"So, you want to get in on this, old man?" Hydroman asked. Gathering up as much water as he could, he attempted to charge at the doctor.

His charge, however, was halted, as five ice-impact webs crashed inside him, causing him to freeze up. He was then surrounded ice webs, which froze upon impact and thoroughly trapped him. "Mind if I cut in?" Spider-Man asked as he swung around to finish the entrapment. "And just a few more, to make sure you won't thaw out for a little while."

While he was distracted, Joystick saw her opportunity. Powering up her energy baton, she leapt up and prepared to slam the weapon down on Spider-Man's back. However, before the blow could land, she was grabbed from the back by two actuators, while a third yanked the baton away.

"I believe you have done enough damage today, young lady," Otto scolded, making sure to keep her up in the air. The baton he took lower, and the lower two actuators make quick work destroying it.

"You think I need that to do some damage?" Joystick asked, giving a psychotic grin. "Think again, old man!" Kicking her legs up, she gripped on to the upper-left actuator and, using that as a base, yanked her arms free. The actuator flailed around in the attempt to free itself of its sudden rider, and the other three rose to help, all of them being subtly guided by Otto.

Joystick wasn't about to come off easy, though. Gripping onto the arm, she began crushing the machine to rip it off. It was a bit too tough for her to break through on her own, but the metal did start to buckle.

Unexpectedly, both the actuator and Otto gave out a cry of pain as the metal started to bend. This surprised Joystick, though not enough to stop her from her goal.

What did, however, was that the other actuators began fighting with a renewed ferocity. Without being guided to do so, the remaining three began to thrash around with a fury, and the speed at which they were doing so was enough to knock the villainess off her perch. She slammed to the ground and was soon pressed there by the lower two actuators, which the upper right one withdrawing a long, thin blade from behind the glowing red LED. "I would recommend you stay down," Otto said calmly as he pet the injured actuator, "unless you would like to become _actually_ pinned."

Joystick let out a shriek of frustration but did nothing else. She knew she was beat.

Spider-Man, at the moment, was trapped in a dual of his own. Once he had made sure to coat Hydroman in enough ice webs to make sure he wasn't going to escape any time soon, he had to move fast to avoid getting hit by a lava ball. "Oh, yeah," he commented, clinging on to the wall behind him. "I forgot you were here."

"I really didn't want to do this," Molten Man said as he charged in on Spider-Man.

"I know you don't," Spider-Man replied, "which makes me question why you're doing it? You don't have to work for the Jackal, you know."

"And what, wind up like you?" Molten Man retorted as he shot off several smaller flames, which were easily put out by the sprinklers. "Tortured for who knows how long to figure out what the mutation worked on me, so he can make more, or as punishment because I won't stop running away? No thanks."

"Hey, it's not so bad." Spider-Man shot off several impact webs before continuing. "I mean, I've only been out for around two weeks and my life's already _way_ better."

To Spidey's disappointment, the webs evaporated nearly as soon as they touched Molten Man. "Can't risk it. You know what he does to people who disappoint him," Molten Man responded, shaking his head.

As they fought, Spider-Man noted that the sprinklers weren't enough to put out Molten Man's fire, but he would have a weakness to water. If he could get outside and by the river then he'd have a chance to end this fight. However, he'd need to get Molten Man to chase him to get there, and to do that, he'd have to make him angry. "You wouldn't even risk it to see your mom or Liz again?" Spider-Man asked, leaping on to one of the lab's large windows. "Or, do you just not care what they think if the matter?"

"Shut up!" Molten Man shouted. "You know I can't let them see me like…like…"

"Really, that's all it is?" Spider-Man asked, and he regretted how scornful he must have sounded. "Vanity? Really, do you think they'd care?"

"Shut up!" Molten Man snapped again, and this time he followed up with a larger lava ball, which melted right through the glass.

This was the opportunity Spider-Man had been waiting for. Zipping out the hole, he gave a wave. "Oh, I get it, the Jackal made some sort of deal. Catch X number of escapees and you get to go home, powers free. Well, I hate to rain on your parade, but this spider's not going to be one of them."

Molten man said nothing, instead leaping up onto one of the shelve and launching himself at Spider-Man. He crashed through the window and wound up on the pier. However, when he made it outside, the web-head was nowhere to be seen. "Where are you?" he bellowed out.

 _Sorry about this, Mark,_ Spider-Man thought, and he shot out a volley of impact webs at Molten Man. The webs evaporated on contact, but they did their goal, which was to knock him over and into the river. There was a blast of steam as he was forcibly put out, and Spider-Man jumped in to haul the now unconscious Molten Man out of the river, leaving him dangling from the pier.

 _That should leave him tied up for the police,_ Spider-Man thought. He then turned to note the lights and sounds coming from the front of the building. _And that must be them. I'd better sneak around the back; no need for them to see the supposed killer of Peter Parker._

Sneaking in through a skylight window, he was able to creep into his room to get some street clothes, so he could switch back into Peter Parker. Once in his room, however, he was given a firm reminder of the burn on his chest. _Ow,_ he thought, noting how red and tender it looked, not to mention the gaping hole in his costume. _Maybe Anna Maria has something for this in her stations. No way I'll be able to explain this, though. I'll just have to look when she's not around._ Stripping off the costume, he put the shirt to one side for later repairs before throwing on a long-sleeved shirt, a Batman tee-shirt, and a pair of jeans, before considering what he was going to do next.

He was startled from his thoughts by the sound of a pebble hitting the windowsill. Heading over to it, he noted Gwen and MJ standing outside. MJ was quick to motion for him to come down to join them.

Once he made sure there was no one else around, Peter crawled out of the window and leapt down to join them, pulling on his socks and shoes once he arrived. "Hey, what's-whoa! Ow!" he exclaimed as Gwen threw her arms around him.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Gwen said when she noticed his reaction. "Are you hurt?"

"Just a burn; it's nothing I haven't dealt with before," he replied, tenderly feeling around his chest. "What's up?"

The two girls glanced at each other, as if trying to decide whether to let it slide or note, before turning back. "We were doing some research on that Kravinoff guy when he heard something was going down at the lab," MJ explained. "By the time we got here, the baddies were already being caught and carted away."

"There's still a lot of police, though, so we supposed you weren't about to come in from the front entrance," Gwen continued.

Peter glanced around the corner, and he could verify what she said was true. A troop of NYC's finest were there, carting off the Jackal's bloodhounds. There was also the troop of the usual suspects after a supervillain fight: a ton of reporters, eager to sniff out a new story, and the typical civilian gapers who just had to come in to see the damage.

"Oh, this is so bad," Peter groaned. "I did this. I brought them here." His face fell. "I'm going to have to quit."

"Let's not jump to any hasty decisions," Gwen said, placing a hand on his arm. "You also saved them, and you were able to stop them."

"Gwendy's right," MJ added. "Just look for the silver lining, Tiger. At least they're being put away, so you'll be safe for a while."

"Not really," Peter said with a sigh. "These were only a part of the task force Jackal was building up. There will be more."

He tried to lean against the building, but the movement around his burn caused a wave of pain to overcome him, and he let out a groan. In an instant, Gwen was by his side. "I don't think that burn was as minor as you made it out to be," she stated. "We'd better treat it before it gets infected. Do you know where a first aid kit is?"

"It's inside," Peter replied. "There's a doctor's station there. I had hoped I might find something once everyone's gone."

"We'll head in," MJ said with a nod. "Is there a side entrance?"

"Right this way," he replied, forcing himself up and guiding the way.

They came to a small door around the side, which was usually used to take the garbage out. The three of them were able to get in and avoid the crowd of spectators outside, which were still struggling to get a look. "Hopefully, everyone will be still outside with the reporters, so we can word fast," he said in a hushed whisper to the two girls.

When they made it in, however, they had no such luck. All the scientist had already filed back into the lab, and to Peter's dismay, they weren't the only ones. There was a police officer present, speaking to Otto, Bella, and Anna Maria, and Peter recognized him as Captain Stacy. Along with the police, there were also two reporters Peter had never seen before, a hulking blond man who seemed to be speaking intently with Sanjani and a slim, dark haired cameraman who was racing around filming everything, to a trailing Rosie and Grady's dismay.

Peter gave a quick glace over his shoulder to Gwen and pointed to Captain Stacy. "Is that really him?"

"I think so," Gwen replied with a nod. "He's been back for a while now."

"Still," Peter said, attempting to move back into the shadows, "maybe we'd better come back at a less busy time."

Unfortunately, that option wasn't available, for at that moment, Bella looked over and spotted him. "Oh, wait, there he is!" he declared. Hurrying over, she grabbed Peter's wrist and pulled him out into the main lab. "Peter, we've been so worried. Are you alright?"

"Uh, yeah, fine, I guess," Peter replied, but he was hardly paying attention. As soon as Bella had pulled him into the main lab, he and Captain Stacy had made eye contact. There was no getting out of it now.

"Good to see you're alright, Peter," Otto said, placing a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "That little chemical concoction you made saved our lives."

"Big time!" Grady added, patting Peter on the back. Peter had to stifle a groan, as the sudden movement aggravated the burn. "If it wasn't for you, those creeps really would have messed us up."

"They didn't hurt, you, did they?" Rosie asked.

"Just a small burn, I'm fine," Peter said almost automatically. He still hadn't torn his eyes away from Captain Stacy, who had done the same.

There still came an oncoming stream of chatter at him from the scientists, except for Sanjani, who was still speaking with the blond man. However, Peter could only just barely hear it, as he was waiting for Captain Stacy to respond.

When he finally did, he turned not to Peter, but to the two reporters. "Hey, you two are press, aren't you?"

"Yes, sir," the dark-haired camera man said in a chipper voice. "I'm Phil Urich, and he's Eddie Brock, and we work for-"

"Out, now, both of you," Stacy said quickly.

"Sir, they have my permission to be here," Sanjani stated, stepping in front of the blond man, Eddie.

"I'm afraid what is going to be said in here should not be said in front of press," Captain Stacy replied. "They both need to get out of here now."

"Don't worry, we'll go," Eddie replied. He kissed the top of Sanjani's head. "We've got enough for the story anyhow. See you later, babe."

"Alright, see you later," Sanjani replied as the two men left, though she did seem disappointed to see them go.

Once they were gone, Captain Stacy made a round to make sure everything was covered over, and no one was listening. Once he was content that the only people who would hear this was the people in the room, he turned back to Peter. "So, Pete, are you going to tell them, or should I?"

There was an awkward moment of pause, and all eyes were on Peter. "Peter, what does he mean?" Rosie asked.

Before he could say anything, MJ and Gwen revealed themselves. "Wait, it's not what you think!" MJ exclaimed.

"He has a good reason!" Gwen stated.

All eyes turned once more to Peter. "'Good reason?'" Anna Maria repeated. She raised an eyebrow and her stare hardened. "What would you need a good reason for?"

Peter sighed. There was no getting around it now. "I…haven't been fully honest with you. My name isn't Peter David. It's Peter Parker."

"Peter Parker," Grady repeated. "That name sound familiar."

"It should," Captain Stacy said. "Four years ago, a young man named Peter Parker was murdered by Spider-Man, or at least had been assumed so after his clothes were found abandoned in a web sack." He turned back to Peter. "So, Pete, what happened? Why did you disappear, and why did you fake your identity?"

There was a moment of pause, as concern turned to confusion and accusation. "Do you have an answer, Parker?" Otto asked, and the arms moved in such a way as to suggest suspicion and caution.

To make matters worse for Peter, the pain from his burn had started to become unbearable. He clenched his teeth and tried not to show it.

It was obvious, though, and once more, Gwen stepped to his defense. "Please, he's hurt, and he doesn't need to take this."

Peter, however, raised his hand. "No, they're right." He gave a sad smile. "I'm not going to be staying long anyways."

By that point, the pain in his eyes was blatant, it was obvious he was in agony. "If you're hurt, come over here," Anna Maria said, motioning to her station. "You can explain while I tend the burn."

Peter sighed. "I suppose it's the best way to start my explanation. Just, please, know it's not as bad as it looks."

Still under the incredulous stares, he moved over to the medical quadrant and removed both shirts. When what was underneath was revealed, everyone fell into a stunned silence. Even Gwen and MJ were not braced for what they saw.

The burn had become red, had a moist look to it, and there were many blisters. However, the burn was not what was receiving the most attention.

Patterned all over Peter's torso, back, and portions of his upper arms were a multitude of scars. They all looked to be of different causes. Dozens of clean, narrow lines suggesting blade cuts, seven or eight small holes that implied bullet wound, one or two larger, more jagged injuries that seemed to have come from a melee fight, and a few others that no one wanted to guess where they came from. He was covered in them, to the point that where they often overlapped each other, and from the looks of things, they continued down torso past the waste of his pants. He looked even smaller seated on the low treatment bed. It was clear this was not what anyone had expected to see, and a thick silence fell over the room.

It was finally broken by Sanjani, who didn't seem as stunned as everyone else. "You look like you've been used as a knife sharpener."

"Sanjani!" Anna Maria snapped, turning to her coworker with a glare.

Sanjani shrugged. "What? He does."

"Peter, what happened to you?" Gwen asked, her voice shaking.

"Well, uh, huh." Peter swallowed, feeling an intense amount of embarrassment from the attention. "Yeah, that's kind of an accurate description for what happened to me."

"Spider-Man did this to you?" Captain Stacy asked.

"No!" Peter was quick to shout out, though he restrained himself from shooting up, as Anna Maria had started to wash his burn. "I know what people think, but it wasn't him."

"Who was it, if not him?" Captain Stacy asked.

"I…I don't know who ordered it," Peter replied. "They never said his name around me. They only referred to him as 'the boss.' The man who did the physical act was a scientist, Miles Warren, who also calls himself the Jackal. All I know is that after I was taken, I woke up and he was there. He said he was going to induce me as an operative for some sort of organization." He paused for a second, shuddering at the memory. "It all went downhill from there."

"I've heard of Warren," Otto commented, and he frowned. "A brilliant geneticist, but he had little regard for the wellbeing of his subjects. If I remember correctly, he was canned at Oscorp for crossing ethical boundaries."

Peter gave a dry laugh. "Well, quite a few ethical boundaries were crossed with me. These were mostly from…tests of some sort. I was never given any info about what sorts of tests they were. The rest were from escape attempts."

"You didn't want to take part in his twisted game, so he mutilated you for it," Anna Maria commented as she started applying ointment to the fresh injury.

"Pretty much," Peter replied. "That's also how I know Spider-Man didn't take me; at my last escape attempt, and the first one to be successful, he _helped_ me. If it wasn't for him, I'd still be rotting in that cell." He gave a sigh. "That's why I came up with a false name and tried to be someone else. I thought if I made up a new life for myself, I'd be able to escape them permanently. That I'd be free. I guess that was a joke."

"You poor thing," Bella said, coming over. It was clear she wanted to provide some form of comfort but didn't want to aggravate the burn. Instead, she took his hand. "It's alright now. You're safe here."

"Unfortunately, no, I'm not," he replied, giving a sad smile. "Those goons that attacked today? They were some of Jackal's minions, people he was able to get to work for him. They came here, hunting me. They were coming to take me back there."

"But they didn't!" Grady exclaimed. "Remember, they said they wanted the teleporter tech, not you! It was just a coincidence that you were here, too."

"That's right," Anna Maria said. "We all heard them. They came here to steal the tech, and it was only by mistake they found out you were there."

"But they found me earlier," Peter replied. "They confronted me when I went to the laundromat. The only reason they didn't take me there is that they wanted the capture to be a secret, so no one would be looking for me. At the time, I thought they had just seen me there for a moment and didn't know where I was. I planned on quitting and leaving this morning, but I guess they tracked me and found me here."

"Not necessarily," Captain Stacy replied. When Peter gave him an inquisitive look, he explained himself. "You said they confronted you, but in a separate place, and didn't take you because they wanted the abduction to be a secret. If they wanted it to be a secret, why would they try again where there was a number of witnesses who not only saw, but partially knew who to look for?"

"I…don't really know," Peter admitted after a moment's thought.

Otto nodded in agreement. "He's right, you know. They would have waited for a quiet place to take you where no one would have seen. Thus, when they came for the teleporter tech, they only came for the tech. However, when they realized you were here, too, they decided to kill two birds with one stone, so to speak."

Peter nodded, but the look of shame in his face did not go away. It was clear he heard what was said but did not fully believe. "Maybe. It doesn't really matter." He looked up and looked over to Otto. "I can't in good conscience ask you to stay in harms way, now that I know they'll eventually find me."

"It'll alright, son," Captain Stacy said, putting a hand on Peter's shoulder. "Once you're in Witness Protection, they won't find you."

"There's not even a need for that," Otto replied, crossing his arm. "Like we said before, they came here for the tools. You did not bring them here. Besides, even if you had, _you_ were the one who supplied the tool for their defeat."

"I did?" Peter asked, and for a moment, he feared his secret had been discovered.

That fear was quashed in a second. "That's right!" Grady exclaimed. "Bella told us you were the one who came up with that ice mixture."

"And that did save our hides in several occasions," Anna Maria added. She gave a smirk. "If those guys end up coming back, I'd certainly rather have you here to help."

"You'd be willing to let me stay?" Peter said, floored by the kindness he was being shown.

"It would be ungrateful to turn you out after the help you gave," Bella pointed out.

"But the danger-" Peter started, but he was cut off.

"Let them come!" Grady exclaimed. "We know about them now, and with a few tweaks to my ghost hunting gear, we'll all be ready for them next time!"

"Meh, I guess the attack would have happened anyway," Sanjani said with an emotionless shrug.

"I-I don't know what to say," Peter replied.

"Don't act so surprised, Tiger," MJ said, coming around to join him. "You're worth keeping around."

"It's decided then," Otto said, straightening up and taking charge. "You'll stay here, at least for the time being. We all know about what happened and are willing to help you." As if to echo his master's words, Epsilon slipped into Peter's lap and nuzzled up against his now bandaged chest.

"You're welcome here as long as need," Rosie assured.

Seeing the situation, Captain Stacy nodded. "I'll make sure the police department is aware of the situation, and precautions are put into place. I'll also make sure there is enough proper paperwork for Peter 'David' to continue as is until it's safe for Peter Parker to come back."

"Thank you," Peter said, feeling more welcome and wanted than he'd felt in years. "Thank you all."

* * *

It was late at night for Bugle Media, but that had never stopped J. Jonah Jameson before. He always stayed at the building long after all the other employees had left, going over information for future stories until the dead of night. He had not left for home before dark ever since his Joan had died.

As usual, Joe "Robbie" Robertson leaned into the office at about 11:30. "You almost ready to go home, Jonah?"

Jonah gave a snort in response. "As if I could. Of course, there was some major incident at a lab today, and there's no way I can put this down before every piece of information has been examined!"

Robbie rolled his eyes, well aware of his old friend's habits. "Alright. I'm heading in. Just send in an email if you find anything."

"As if I'd-" Jonah started, but he cut himself off. "No, it can't be."

Hearing the change in tone, Robbie doubled back and came in. "What? What is it?"

"Ulrich's kid nephew, the camera man, he got some footage of the lab after the accident," Jameson replied, and his voice lacked any of his typical harshness or sarcasm. "Look who he caught on tape."

Robbie came in and examined the screen, and his shock soon matched that of his boss. "How is possible?"

"I don't know," Jonah said gruffly. He snatched up his e-cig and took a deep draught. "But it looks like just the case for Ol' Jigsaw Jameson!"

"You know you're not supposed to vape in here," Robbie pointed out.

"Never mind that now!" Jonah said, striding out of the office. "We have a case, and we're starting first thing tomorrow!"

Robbie cast one last look at the image of what appeared to be a grown-up Peter Parker before hurrying to follow his boss out.

To be continued…


	10. Chapter 10

The studio warehouse was completely empty and dark, with the exception of the city light that filtered into the building from outside. Every couple of minutes, a guard would come in, give a quick look around with a flashlight, then disappear as he made his round around the building.

It was just how Black Cat liked it.

The cat thief crouched on a high ledge, waiting for the guard to pass by, before she moved in. This place was just her cup of tea: full of all sorts of goodies, both technology and simpler sorts of valuables, scattered around and covered over. What's more, they all belonged to the Kingpin of Crime, which in the Cat's book, made them free handouts.

Once the guard moved away and she heard his footsteps trail into the distance, she made her move. Hurrying over, she lifted the tarp of one of the cases, finding a ruby and diamond necklace nestled inside. "The Red Scarlet," she commented to herself. "Meow. I know one kitty who's going home happy tonight."

Snatching the necklace, she moved from treasure trove to treasure trove, snapping up choice pieces for herself. She didn't intend to keep _all_ of it. The things that interested her less, such as the developmental weapons, computer data, the more boring pieces of art, and other such knick-knacks would be auctioned off on the black market, and the money would mostly find its way back to the victims of the man she was stealing from.

The jewels and the occasional useful piece of tech, however, would find themselves in the Black Cat's inventory. "A girl can't go off on a shopping spree and not keep _something_ for herself," she would often tell herself.

During her hunt, she then spotted some piece of broken technology sitting in an uncovered case. It didn't look like it was broken, and it had a shiny, sleek look to it. Curiosity overcame her, and she started to move towards the case.

As she was making her way, though, the click of the security guard's footsteps became audible nearby. Black Cat immediately rushed to a hiding place. It was always such a bore when she had to hide away, but it did lend to the thrill of the caper. She waited few minutes for him to walk away.

While she was in hiding, however, something else happened. She spotted a man wearing mechanical wings of some sort, alight on a ledge outside a window. He set up something outside, but he moved silently, and the Cat wouldn't have noticed had she not been facing the window. The guard certainly didn't notice.

As the guard walked away, the man activated whatever it was he had set up outside, forming some sort of plasma-like section in the wall, and using this, he slipped into the room.

Black Cat could see him more clearly now. He was wearing some sort of pilot getup, and the wings folded easily on his back. He also had a helmet on that obscured the upper half of his face, though the lower half could still be seen. By the looks of it, the helmet had night vision and other useful assists in it. It was at that moment she figured out who she was dealing with.

The man started to look around the room as soon as he was in it, and he immediately started picking up tech. _So, I've got little competition, huh?_ the Cat thought to herself. _Well, we'll see about that._

Though the man was picking up bits and pieces of tech as he went, it was clear from watching him that he was looking for something. He skimmed through everything, muttering to himself.

Smirking, the Cat decided it was time to make her move. "Well, well," she said in a hushed voice. "It looks like I'm not the only one to go after the Kingpin's nest egg."

The man started for a moment, before turning to look at her. "You must be that Black Cat person I've heard about." He gave a laugh. "We have a bit in common, then. At least, in our reasoning for being here."

She sauntered over. "Thrill of the chase?"

"Close," he shrugged. "These fat-cats like Fisk have been preying on good, red-blooded Americans for far too long. I would assume that's your motivation, too, considering I've never heard you target an honest man."

"True," Cat replied, "to a degree." She swiped a pair of sapphire earrings and tossed it into her bag. "Sometimes a girl just wants to feel pretty."

"Take what you want of those," the man replied. "They're not any use to me."

"Oh, so you're a tech-vulture then?" Cat hazarded to guess.

The man gave a smirk as he reached out and snatched up the device Black Cat had been previously examining. " _The_ tech Vulture."

Suddenly, two web-lines shot out of nowhere, one snatching the device out of the Vulture's hand and the other taking away Black Cat's bag. "Hi!" Spider-Man called out. "My name's Spider-Man, I've been crime-fighting for just over a year, and my favorite color is blue!"

"Spider-Man!" Both Black Cat and Vulture responded immediately. Charging at him, they attempted to swipe at the objects he had previously snatched away.

Spidey responded fast, tossing up the objects to the roof and webbing them there before leaping up to take his opponents. "Alright, alright," he said, ducking under a kick from the Cat, catching the Vulture's arm, and pushing him away again, "so I haven't had that year _consecutively,_ but I have had it! I'm not a greenhorn at this."

Taking advantage of Spider-Man's preoccupation with the Vulture, Black Cat sprang at him and was successful at latching onto his back. "I can see that," she said with a smirk, giving his arm a non-too-gentle squeeze. "Got a bit of muscle under here."

"Yeah, crime fighting will do that," he replied. Aiming over his shoulder, he shot out a web net, to the wall behind him, backed up quickly to stick her into it, and then pulled himself free. "Well, that, and a genetically altered spider bite."

"Now, where'd did Big Bird go?" He said, turning to look for the Vulture. He caught a quick glimpse of the man…just as he was slipping back through the purple plasma to escape, the tech _and_ Black Cat's bag in tow.

"Oh, no, you're not shaking me that easy!" Spider-Man exclaimed. He sprang up and attempted to follow through the plasma, only for it to turn back into a solid wall last minute. His spider-sense warned him of this fact a second too late, and the thrust of his chase sent him smack into the wall.

 _OK, not one of my more graceful attempts,_ he muttered to himself as he pulled himself up. He could see out the window, though, and it was just enough for him to see the Vulture disappear from sigh. _And the bad guy got away. Great going, Spidey. At least you caught the bad girl._

He then turned back to where he had left Black Cat webbed up, but to his dismay, all that was left was the tattered remains of the web-net. _Or, not,_ he groaned internally. _How else is this night going to get any better?_

"Sp-sp-Spider-Man! It's Spider-Man!" Spider-Man spun around in shock when he heard the exclamation. There was the guard, who heard the commotion the battle had made and had come along to investigate. When he said who it was, the guard grabbed his radio. "This is Jim at Warehouse B-4! Hurry, there is a known killer here!"

"Look, I have never killed-ah fuhgeddaboutit," Spidey muttered. He shot up a web-line and was quick to maneuver his way out the open skylight. The early October air was crisp, reminding Spider-Man his need to buy thermals for under his costume. _As soon as the lab opens up after the repairs_ , he promised himself. _It'll be the first thing your paycheck goes to._

He swung back over to the lab, where there was a variety of scaffolding and work tools left by the workmen, who would be back as soon as the sun was up. After the attack, the lab had been temporarily closed to allow for repairs to be made, so only the housing area was still occupied, if a bit loud.

Peter had been fortunate; since he had nowhere to go during the period of closure, Dr. and Mrs. Octavius had allowed him to stay, pretty much rent free. That wasn't forever, of course, but he was thankful that he'd have a safe place to sleep and an access to food, though he was always careful not to eat too much. He didn't want to become a burden.

Once he got back inside, he immediately crawled into bed to catch a few hours of sleep. He was planning on meeting Gwen and MJ at the library that morning to do a bit more research on the Kravinoff lead, and he'd need to have his rest if he was going to be on the game for that. _Maybe I should look more into Catwoman and Big Bird while I'm there,_ he thought to himself as he drifted off into fitful sleep.

* * *

Felicia Hardy was furious, to say the least. She had been planning this strike for nearly three months, and she ended up losing it all like that, all because of that stupid buzzard!

As soon as she got back to her apartment, she changed quickly from her Black Cat outfit to a more comfortable set of pajamas. Trying to get her mind off the failure of the Black Cat's hunt, she turned to the work that was lined up for hot-shot private investigator Felicia Hardy.

It was the Toomes case, which had been on her plate for years. She could barely remember when blue-collar demolition cleanup manager Adrian Toomes had come to her for help after Tony Stark had put him out of business. It had been right at the start of her career. Toomes' company, Eastside Cleanup Crew, had previously had a contract with the city to do maintenance and repairs for all metahuman related damages done to the city. Even though Eastside had always done well with their duties, the contract was eventually broken when the Stark-funded Damage Control was formed, shortly after Stark got it in his head to form the metahuman coalition, the Avengers.

Of course, Toomes had attempted to take his grievances to Stark directly, he was repeatedly brushed off and ignored. This was not a shock to Felicia, who had done more than her fair share of investigation cases to dig up dirt on Stark, but this time there appeared to be more vindictiveness than usual. She wasn't the first investigator, and she doubted she'd been the last. Toomes took it personal, and he was willing to do what it took to make Stark bleed.

Of course, these were Felicia's favorite types of cases. It let her do research into her filthy-rich opponent and seeing all the transgressions hypocrites like Stark had performed only assured her there was no problem in robbing them later as Black Cat. After all, thieves cannot complain of robbery, and men like Tony Stark were always thieves.

Still, there was one other piece in her mind from tonight. Spider-Man. It was the Cat's first interaction with the web-head, and what she saw intrigued her. Taking a break from the Toomes case, she turned to the internet to see what she could mine on Spider-Man.

Most of it was crime reports relating to the Parker murder. Some kid was apparently abducted and killed by Spider-Man four years ago, before the vigilante himself apparently dissolved into the ether. It appeared to be an open and shut case, but Felicia wasn't quite so certain. After all, why would someone who had, for a full year, been devoted to preserving life, suddenly just end one and then disappear. It didn't match up.

Her hunch was supported when she found a video of the supposed even when Peter Parker had been kidnapped. The figure who appeared looked like Spider-Man closely enough, but the match wasn't perfect. It was hard to see due to the quality of the video, but when she compared the video to a similar one of Spider-Man from several weeks before, she noted the figure who did the kidnapping was too muscular.

Felicia was convinced this would require more information, and since Spider-Man himself was bound to be a dead end, she'd start with his apparent victim, Peter Parker. Parker's file was nearly empty and _incredibly_ boring. He was orphaned after his pilot mother's plane went down, raised by his wholesome aunt and uncle, went to high school where he lived a normal life, and acted as a cub reporter/photographer for Bugle Media on a paid internship. "Bland as white bread," Felicia muttered to herself. "Well, at least there's a lead."

Getting up, she headed off to bed, determined to pay Bugle Media a visit in the morning.

* * *

"Alright, here we are," Gwen said as she controlled the computer. She, Peter, and MJ were seated at one of the many computers in Queens Library, and they had recently started their search. "Sergei Kravinoff, current patriarch of the house of Kravinoff. Wife is Aleksandra, and it looks like they have a couple of kids together." An image was tied to the page they were reading, a picture of the listed family. Kravinoff was, himself, a tall, proud-looking man with dark hair, and his wife was no less proud, though with long, loose blond hair. Their three children stood around them with the same grim looking expression on their face as their parents.

"Yikes," MJ commented, taking a sip of her coffee, "I haven't seen a more cheer-less family portrait since the Addams Family."

"Still, he doesn't look anything like the guy to attacked me," Peter commented. "Of course, that guy was a shape-shifter, so this might not be a dead end."

"I'm afraid it is," Gwen replied, and her tone was apologetic. "Kravinoff is a bit of a hunting enthusiast, and around the time you were attacked by a guy claiming to be a Kravinoff, he was attending a hunting party in Zimbabwe. There's even a video." She clicked on it, and a clip of the Russian aristocrat bringing down an elephant played for a short while, ending before it could get too bloody."

"Well, there's one trail run cold," Peter said with a sigh. "Unless there's another Kravinoff who could be running around."

"Well, there is also his brother," someone stated from behind them. The trio turned to see Grady standing behind them. He was dressed in a Hawaiian shirt over a long-sleeved tee, and had a bag of books dangling over one arm.

"Grady, hey!" Peter said, shooting up when he realized someone he knew was there. "How long have you been there?"

"Oh, I just got here," Grady replied, giving a smile. "Don't worry, I don't make it a habit to creep on people."

"Nice to see you again," MJ said, giving a grin. "What brings you here?"

"I've gotta figure out a new project to work on," he replied. "Oscorp's not just going to let me sit on my hands once the lab is up, so I'll need to figure out something new, and fast."

"Something new?" Peter asked as he calmed down and took his seat again. "Didn't you already submit a whole list of potential projects already?"

"Well, yeah," Grady said, and he got a slightly annoyed look, "but apparently mirror based security cameras aren't practical, ghost hunting equipment is the stuff of science-fiction, and the Breakroom of Tomorrow would be, and I quote, 'an ungodly waste of valuable company resources.' So, as it appears, I'm back on square one."

"Don't worry," MJ said, giving a grin, "you'll figure something out."

"Oh, I know I will," Grady replied. "I just got to get the creative juices flowing!"

"So, you mentioned something about Kravinoff having a brother?" Gwen asked. "Where is that? He's not listed anywhere online."

"Well, half-brother, and that's because the Kravinoff family doesn't acknowledge him," Grady answered. He pulled up a chair before continuing. "No one really knows why. Most people suspect it's because he might be a mutant."

"A mutant?" Peter asked, suddenly catching onto the thread. "Like, maybe a shapeshifter?"

Grady shrugged. "Maybe. Nobody's quite certain, but it seems to be the option that makes the most amount of sense. The Kravinoffs have never had a problem talking about the other illegitimates."

"So there are other, unlisted Kravinoffs?" Gwen stated before turning back to the computer. "Interesting…"

"Oh, yeah, lots," Grady replied with a laugh. "It's common knowledge that the old man Kravinoff had at least four mistresses, and it looks like Kraven the Hunter here is looking to outdo his old man. It's like we're back in the stone age."

"So, why the sudden interest in the Kravinoff family?" the engineer asked. "I mean, you don't seem to be the celeb gossip type. Except for maybe you, MJ. No offense."

"None taken," MJ said with a shrug.

"So, you have an unpleasant run in with a Kravinoff?" Grady asked, more as a joke. When he saw Peter's face fall, and the aside glances the girls were giving each other, and the memory of what Peter had gone through, reality hit him hard. "Oh, crud, you said shapeshifter. You did, didn't you?"

"I…can't talk about it here," Peter stated, glancing around at the people around him. "You never know who might be listening."

"No problem," Grady said, getting up. "Just let me check these out, and we can switch to my place."

"Really?" MJ asked. "That'd be great, thank you!"

"No problem." Grady swung his bag over his arm. "I've got a constant scan on my apartment to make sure no one steals my designs, so there's no worry about bugs." With that, he headed over to the checkout counter while the rest gathered their possessions.

* * *

As usual, the Bugle Media building was abuzz with traffic as people moved this way and that fulfill their news work. Still, the occasional passer stopped to look as Felicia Hardy passed by. She was aware of their awe, and somewhat enjoyed the effect she had.

She strode up to the desk, where a dark-haired woman who was slightly older than her was seated. A name tag on the desk marked her as Betty Brant. "Hello," the woman said as she approached. "Can I help you?"

"Yes," Felicia stated, pulling out her ID as proof of her identity. "My name is Felicia Hardy, private investigator. I'm running a case, and I wanted to ask some questions about a former Bugle employee."

"Well, I'll see what I can do," Betty replied. "What would be the employee's name?"

"Peter Parker," Felicia replied.

It was clear this was not the answer Betty had been expecting, and for a moment, she froze up. Then, taking a breath, she reached back in the files. "P-Parker, of course," she said, and she notably sounded sad. "I'll get you his file."

"Something wrong with Parker?" Felicia asked, noting the secretary's hesitation.

"Well, no," Betty replied. "It's just that…well…oh, I don't think I'm supposed to say this, but…"

"I'm not supposed to say this" was a phrase that always caught Felicia's attention, so she leaned in. "What is it?"

"Peter died, and really young, too," Betty stumbled out. "Though I guess you know that if you're researching him. Thing was, he was kind of the mascot around here. He was ridiculously enthusiastic about what he did, and he was one of the few people capable of looking Mr. Jameson in the face and stating what he believed. Everyone here liked him, even if they had odd ways of showing it, so when he was murdered…"

"Moral plummeted, I'm guessing," Felicia stated.

Betty nodded. "Everything pretty much ground to a halt. Of course, things can't stay that way, especially in a newsroom, but things were still off without Peter around."

"I'm guessing you personally liked him," Felicia said.

"We all did," Betty insisted, "but, yes, I suppose I did. He was like a cute, enthusiastic little nephew."

"But it's not for myself that I'm concerned," Betty said. She looked both ways and lowered her voice before continuing. "I suspect Mr. Jameson had big plans for Peter, because he was hit real hard when word of Peter's death arrived. As of late, I suspect he might have gone into denial, as he's kind of…started investigating into Peter again."

"Investigating?" Felicia smelled a potential lead, and one who might work willingly with her. "And why would that be?"

"Oh, I can't say, I've said too much already," Betty said, shaking her head. She put down a pile of papers. "Here's Peter's work portfolio. Feel free to look over it."

"That's okay," Felicia replied, pushing past the secretary's desk to the primary news room. "I have another angle I'll go with."

Betty attempted to stop Felicia from heading in that directions, but the lawyer was moving too fast. Before long, she was lost in the mix of reporters, editors, cameramen, and office workers.

Inside the office, Jonah was going on his usual routine of barking out orders to anyone who had the misfortune of being in eyeshot. "You! I want that article on my desk in three minutes! Sisco! Where's that video link!? You said you'd have it up! By Friday!"

"Sir, it's Tuesday."

"Well, I want it up by yesterday! And you!" He then spun around and pointed at Felicia. "I ordered my coffee an hour ago!"

"You ordered it ten minutes ago," Robbie said as he passed through, not bothering to look up from his papers as he did.

"Like I said, thirty minutes ago!" Jonah snapped. "What took you so long?!"

"I'm not the coffee girl, Mr. Jameson," she said, not flustered in the slightest by the yelling.

"Well, then get out of my office!" Jonah snapped. "I've got too much to do, and I don't have any time for loiterers! Now get out before I have you arrested and prosecuted!"

"Even if I can help you with you're Peter Parker investigation?" she asked, giving a smirk.

Jonah froze when she made her mention. "Wait, how did you-?"

"Call it a woman's intuition," Felicia responded. She handed him her business card. "My name is Felicia Hardy, and I'm a private investigator. A client of mine came to me, claiming she doesn't believe Spider-Man killed Peter Parker, but that she wants to know what really happened. I came here hoping I might find a lead."

Jonah stared at her for a moment before looking up and realizing that most of the energy in the room had dropped. Most of the people were standing still and waiting to hear what the answer was. In an instant, he raised his voice once more. "What are you yahoos all looking at?!" he yelled. "What am I running here, a talk show with a studio audience?! Get back to work!"

Without hesitation, the hustle and flow of the room started up again. Once he was sure everyone was back at their jobs, he turned to Felicia. "Just step into my office. I need to get someone. Then I'll tell you what I know."

Felicia nodded and did as she was directed. In a few minutes, Jonah came in to join her, along with Robbie, who had a tablet in one hand. "How did you know we were investigating into the Parker case?" Jonah asked.

She gave another coy smile at this question. "I actually didn't. At least, not for sure. That said, I am pleased to hear you are."

Jonah gave a snort at the response but refused to be baited by the tone. "What do you know?"

"For one thing, it is both physically and psychologically impossible for Spider-Man to be Peter Parker's killer." She took out a file of papers that she had in her bag. "That kidnapping and killing was completely out of his profile. For everything he has been accused of, by present company included," she added, glancing up at Jameson, "we don't have any proof of any criminal activity until the kidnapping. Not even theft or drug usage, for all we know. The kidnapping came unexpectedly and without and warning."

"That part is debatable," Jonah grumbled. "But what about that physically thing?"

"Here's two pictures of Spider-Man," Felicia said, placing them on the table. One was a still of the kidnapping, taken from the video, and another was one of Peter Parker's earlier pictures of the vigilante, swinging across the frame of the picture in a pose strikingly alike the one in the still. "Look at the comparison between the legs. The kidnapper is about as tall as Spider-Man, but he's also less leggy. Both Spider-Men are long bodied, but the kidnapper's legs are thicker and more muscular. While Spider-Man, the real one, is muscular, its more in a wiry way than a buff way. Same with the arms. Whoever really did the kidnapping looked a lot like Spider-Man, but he's not the same person."

"It makes enough sense," Jonah gave, though he didn't look quite so happy about the proof.

"It does give us a theory that seems to match up with ours," Robbie added. He then turned to Felicia. "Is there anything else you know?"

"Not really," Felicia responded, shaking her head. "All I know is that there's a murdered boy, and my client and I want to know what really happened."

The two men glanced at each other for a moment before Robbie spoke again. "That's actually where your information and ours disagrees," Robbie replied. "You see, we don't think Peter was murdered anymore."

Felicia raised an eyebrow at the suggestion. "Really? Thank what do you suggest happened to Mr. Parker?"

"Honestly, we think we've found him." Robbie worked with the tablet to bring up the recently gained video. "This was video was taken about a week ago by one of our camera men at a small Oscorp lab after a metahuman attack that involved Spider-Man. Most of it isn't very interesting but look who comes in at the very end."

"It certainly looks like him," Felicia commented as she took the tablet. "Properly aged, same build, same face, a bit skinnier, but rather recognizable." She handed the tablet back. "Have you gone to anyone with this information yet?"

"We went to both the police and to the head of the lab, Otto Octavius," Jonah said with a grumble. "Both are dead ends."

"Dead ends?" she asked. "How so?"

"Captain Stacy took one look at that picture and stated it was a mistake!" Jonah scowled at the memory. "He refused to make any comment, despite the fact that both he and his daughter were in the video! 'That man is Peter David,' my foot. And to make matters worse, we can't even arrange an interview with 'Mr. David,' because Octavius keeps stonewalling us! Keeps saying something about employee privacy." He gave a groan and shook his head. "We're trying to locate May Parker now and see if she has any information about the subject, but she's a hard woman to find."

"Hmm," Felicia commented, thinking back on the image. "You said the police captain's daughter was there, too, right?"

Robbie nodded. "Yes, Gwen Stacy. She makes it even more likely that this is Peter Parker, as they were close. I don't think she'd just be hanging around a doppelganger for no reason."

"Then you and I are in agreement," the investigator said with a grin. "Have you tried contacting her?

"She won't pick up the dang phone!" Jonah declared. "They're all conspiring together!"

"Maybe they are," Felicia commented. "And if that's the case, maybe we should set up a conspiracy of our own."

"What are you suggesting?" Robbie asked.

"Simple," she responded. "I suspect they're not letting you close because they recognize you as having been a part of Parker's life. I was never a part, so they won't recognize me. I'll tell you what; I'll continue my investigation, and we stay in contact. I'll let you know where things go, and in exchange, you provide me with info when I need it." She held out her hand. "So, do we have a deal?"

Jonah thought for a moment before shaking her hand. "Just info, though," he stated. "I'm not paying a single penny."

"Oh, you don't need to," Felicia replied, and there was a mischievous flash in her green eyes. "I have my own way of getting funds."

To be continued…


	11. Making Connections

“Here we are,” Grady said as he unlocked the apartment door. “Welcome to Casa del Scraps. Feel free to make yourself at home.”

It was a nice, if rather cramped feeling, apartment. There was a small kitchen area when you entered right in, with a door to the bathroom on one side. Once through the kitchen, the apartment opened up into a combined living area/dining room/bedroom that took up most of the layout. All in all, it appeared to be a nice place to live.

What made it feel so cramped, however, was how many layers of tech lined the place. The kitchen was relatively empty, but still had electronics lining the walls. They were mostly in the form of electronic arms, which were nestled into their spaces above the stove and sink. The main living area, however, was practically packed with computers monitors, gaming consoles, cabinets full of DVDs, video games, and equipment of a variety of shapes and sizes. There was also posters and other paraphernalia from movies, games, bands, and the like. The small space feeling wasn’t helped by the fact that there were three small drones that somewhat resembled humming birds that were flying around the room, apparently without any guidance.

One of these flew up to Grady in a moment before letting out a scanning beam. In a moment, it gave a whir. _“Recognition established,”_ it stated in a voice that appeared to be attempting an upper class British accent. _“Welcome home, Master Grady.”_

“Thank you, Alfred,” Grady stated. “We have guests for the afternoon, three of them.”

 _“Very well,”_ the drone replied. _“I shall set apartment capacity to: four. Scanning for future recognition will be established.”_

“Whoa,” Peter said, giving a grin as one of the drones passed him. “You made these?”

Grady gave a shrug. “Ah, it wasn’t hard. It’s mostly just drones with bits I was able to get from an electronics recycling plant. Though, the scanners I had to get from a closing down grocery store. These are the security systems I was telling you about earlier.”

Each of the drones had flow to Peter and the two girls to establish the scanning, as they had stated before. However, the one scanning Peter then froze. _“Warning,”_ it stated. _“Subject does not match human metabolic pattern. Closest file subject falls under: experimental chimera.”_

Peter froze for a moment, fearful that the drone had uncovered his secret. However, his fear was apparently in vain.

Grady gave a groan. “No, Alfred, that’s just Peter.”

The drone whirred for a moment before scanning again. _“Correction. Experimental chimera designation: Peter.”_

“Sorry about that,” Grady said with a sigh as he grabbed the drone and switched it off. “It can glitch sometimes. It once told me the mailman was an alien, can you believe that?” He shook his head as he set it down. “I’ll have to fix that later.”

“No problem,” Peter said, letting out an internal sigh of relief.

“So, take a seat anywhere you’d like,” Grady said, motioning around the main room. “So, catch me up. What exactly are we dealing with here, and what does Demetri Kravinoff have to do with it?”

“Well, you already know about the more…uncomfortable bits of my history,” Peter started, “but it hasn’t exactly been an easy run, even after I escaped.”

“Yeah, those metahuman attackers were crazy,” Grady agreed.

“That…wasn’t exactly the first run in I had with someone trying to grab me,” Peter went on. He explained how he had been attempting to find his aunt, and how a shapeshifting hunter had been able to trick him into almost being trapped by taking the form of George Stacy, and how it had only been the timely arrival of Gwen that had saved him.

Grady listened to it all silently, not making a response as he talked. Worrying that he wasn’t believing Peter’s story, Gwen and MJ stepped in every now and again to verify that they had witnessed everything as well, crazy as it might sound. They left out the portion of Peter being Spider-Man, but still made it clear that he was witness to everything that had been said between the wall-crawler and the mercenary.

When he had finished, Grady closed his eyes and frowned. “Well, it appears you do have a shapeshifter problem, at the very least. That’ll making things more difficult.”

“More difficult than already being pursued by who knows how many psychos?” MJ asked, raising an eyebrow at the comment.

Grady gave a laugh. “I mean more difficult than if we knew who he was going to change into next. I mean, for all you know, _I_ could be Kravinoff. Or you, or Gwen, for that matter.”

“I think I have it on good principle that no one in this room is out to get me,” Peter replied, noting his spider-sense was not active. “Call it a gut feeling.”

“Still,” Gwen said, “it would be good to be prepared for anything. All of us, considering what we’re walking into.”

“You don’t have to,” Peter said, but Gwen put a finger to his lips.

“I know exactly what you’re going to say, Peter Parker, and I won’t have it,” she said, giving him a smile. “We all know what we’re facing, and we’re willing to help, come hell or high water. Don’t feel like you’re asking for help; we’re volunteering.”

“Exactly!” Grady stated, and he started taping furiously on one of his computers. “I’ve got just the thing, too.”

“The thing?” Peter asked, leaning in to see what the engineer was talking about. “What thing?”

“Well, obviously, we can’t expect Spider-Man to just pop up every time one of those goons comes after you,” Grady said. “We’re going to need some way of staying in contact with each other and defending ourselves in future encounters, and I think I have just the design.” He pressed a few more keys before a scan of a hastily drawn up sketch of some yellow cylinder that would fit in the palm of your hand came up. “Voila! My own designed flash-pellet producer!”

“Why do they have a Batman symbol drawn on them?” MJ asked, laughing a little when she saw the small addition.

“Okay, so I took _some_ inspiration from Batman,” Grady admitted, “but the design is my own, minus the symbol.” He called up a few more specs. “It carries small gel-capsules in it, which it will fill with a flash-pellet solution. Then it will shoot the pellets out at a rapid pace, which should provide a stunning flash of light.” He leaned back and grinned, clearly proud of his design. “This should be perfect for stunning unwanted pursuers!”

Peter leaned in to look at the design, also impressed and inspired by what he saw. “How many fluids can you load into this? Only one at a time?”

“At the moment,” Grady stated, “but it could be adjusted. Why? What are you thinking?”

“If this could be modified to carry three chemical solutions at once,” Peter said, picking up a pencil and writing out chemical formulas on a nearby abandoned pizza receipt, “then this could also be adjusted as a method to fire off a temporary trapping solution.”

“Like at ice stuff you whipped up!” Grady replied with some approval.

Peter nodded in response. “Yes, but I was actually thinking more of a glue solution. See?” He handed over the formula he had been working on.

Grady examined the formula and grinned. “I see! This would be some heavy-duty glue, though. We probably have this stuff at the lab, but it’d be so tough that we’d need to find a way to break it up before using it.”

“I’ve made it before,” Peter replied. “It dissolves within a half-hour when exposed to air. That’s why the solutions would need to be kept separate until fired.”

The two of them went on like this for a while, before they were interrupted by the sound of MJ clearing her throat. “Not to break up the meet up of the minds,” she stated, “but mind letting those of us who are less scientifically inclined in on what this is?”

“Oh, sorry, right,” Peter said, blushing slightly at the correction. He pointed out to the specs. “This device, once modified to have multiple chemical loading areas, would allow us to use a chemical solution that, when mixed together and exposed to air, rapidly expands and entraps those who are hit by it for a temporary amount of time.”

“Allowing for, at the very least, and easy escape,” Gwen suggested.

Peter nodded and waved the pencil in an excited gesture. “Exactly. The chemicals could also be changed out, utilizing fire extinguishers, flash solutions, ice solutions, or other forms of aid.” Peter gave a laugh. “A good cryo-solution could also be used to flash-freeze leftovers, which would have its uses.”

The girls laughed at the comment, but a new look came to Grady’s face. “Pete, man, you’re a genius!” He immediately dodged over to a pile of papers and grabbed a pen and notebook. “I think I have my new project already! Or, we do, if you want in on it.”

“We do?” Peter asked, somewhat confused about what was going on. “But you made the design.”

“And you made the cryo-solution, domi-something-ix,” Grady pointed out.

“Dormienglacies,” Peter corrected.

“Yeah, that.” Grady started scribbling rapidly over the notebook. “If we plug that solution into a constantly flowing environment, we could utilize it as a way of flash-freezing organism’s without doing cellular damage.”

“I see where you’re going,” Peter said, and a grin spread across his face. “Since the Dormienglacies is a paradox solution, a flowing stream-like system could keep the tissues frozen and thus, preserved, and since it is also a gentler but faster preservation system than typical freezing, then we could utilize it as a way of keeping organs or other organic materials from dying or decomposing during transport!”

“Exactamundo!” Grady exclaimed with a grin. “We’d just need a way to thaw them out once they’re ready for use.”

“Oh, that part’s easy,” Peter replied, and he began scribbling down formulas again.

While the two of them began working excitedly on their new idea, MJ looked over at Gwen. “Want to finalize the designs for the website’s winter-lineup spread?” she asked, pulling out a small tablet out of her purse.

“I don’t see why not,” Gwen replied. “We’re clearly not needed here.”

* * *

 

Having finished her meeting with Jameson, Felicia had gone out and started heading out to see the boathouse lab. It was where Jameson had claimed Peter had been seen for certain, and it was her highest chance of finding out if the man here was, in fact, Peter Parker.

On her way there, however, she saw something else that caught her interest. A truck passed her, and in the back was a hodge-podge of bags, boxes, and other odds and ends. It wouldn’t have attracted her attention that much if it hadn’t been for the back situated right on top of the pile. It was her bag; the one the Vulture had stolen the night before.

Smirking, she wandered up closer to the truck. Of course, she wasn’t going to be able to follow it the whole way on foot; she wasn’t superhuman, after all. However, she was determined too get her bag back, and to make the guy who took it sorry that he’d crossed her.

Moving as silently as she could, she got in close to the truck. Her bag was too high for her to reach without attracting attention, so she couldn’t grab it at the moment. That was of no matter, though. Felicia was just as interested in getting back at the Vulture as she was as getting the bag back. Instead, she slipped a tracking device onto the truck and then hurried away. She’d be able to find the truck later once it reached its destination; from there, she’d be able to do a lot more damage than take one single bag.

She came in just in time, too, since the light changed as soon as she had left her tracker. The truck moved off as fast as the New York traffic would allow, and Felicia was left behind without any notice.

Not that this bothered Felicia in the slightest. As far as she was concerned, her goals for now were reached. For the rest of the day, Felicia Hardy would relax and enjoy herself. That night, the Black Cat would go on the hunt.

But first, she’d need to get a little spider in on things, too.

* * *

 

It was early night as Peter swung out over the city on his patrols, he was in a rather good mood. With all the trouble he’d been through, he’d truly forgotten how much he enjoyed working with his chemistry formulas, and the fact that Grady had come up with several invention designs that would make those formulas practical and useful only made the activity all the sweeter.

Of course, that didn’t mean he wasn’t on guard. He was still aware he was a wanted man, and he was aware he was going to have to be careful when he went out, both as Peter and as Spider-Man, but still, the opportunity to indulge his hobby was sweet, and did a lot to improve his mood.

He had gone out as Spider-Man mostly at night these past few weeks. The reality that he was a feared and wanted man made it hard for him to maneuver during the day, so he kept most of his activities to later times. Even then, he was careful to keep to darker alley-ways and under bridges, where people would be less likely to notice him. It wasn’t as exhilarating as swinging from building to building, but it was a price to pay to avoid any confrontations with the police.

As he was moving, the sharp buzz of a silent alarm came to him. He couldn’t hear it, of course, but the sharp vibrations triggered his spider-sense in an instant. Without a moment’s hesitation, he headed in the direction of the alarm.

Once he got there, he found the shattered remains of a jewelry store window. “Alright, alright,” he stated as he swung in and landed on the ceiling. “I know these prices are robbery, but that doesn’t mean you can retaliate in kind.”

He had expected to see a couple of guys digging through the shelves when he came in. Instead, there was a woman with long platinum blond hair, wearing black catsuit and a mask that covered the upper half of her face. “It’s about time you got here, Spider,” she stated. “I was starting to worry you weren’t getting the message.”

“You!” he exclaimed when he saw her. “You’re the cat burglar from last night!”

“Ding-ding-ding!” the woman exclaimed. “You are a sharp one. Now, how’s about we get out of here before the cops arrive?”

“ _I’ll_ be going,” he stated, webbing her arm to the counter top. “ _You’ll_ stick around to explain why you came to rob this place.”

The woman seemed to regard the webbing with some amount of annoyance. “Shame that you think that. You clearly haven’t heard of me.”

“Should I have?” Spider-Man asked. “Sorry, I’ve just had a lot of personal drama in my life as of late.”

“Well, you’re about to have a bit more,” she stated. Without pausing, she lifted her other hand, and claw-like blades emerged from her finger-tips. Using these, she sliced through the webbing with ease. As soon as she was free, she took off running. “Catch me if you can, Spider!” she called out as she dodged out the open window.

Spider-Man didn’t hesitate for a moment to take up the chase. To his dismay, however, the cat thief chose to take a highly populated route out, meaning that stealth was out of the question. _Great, just what I need,_ he thought in dismay when he saw the variety of camera phones that were pointed at him. _Unsolicited publicity. I can’t wait for accusations of theft to join those of murder._

 _Well,_ he tried to console himself, _at least I’ll be able to turn in my “partner in crime.”_

For her part, the woman had been able to keep up the chase well. She was fast, though not faster than him, and she as good at utilizing her environments to provide him with obstacles to get around. Still, it was nothing he couldn’t overcome.

She had taken to climbing up the side of a building, using her claw-blades as grips. Taking note of her movement, he cut around the side and beat her there. He rushed up the side of a wall she was not on and beat her to the top.

When she reached the top, he reached out and grabbed her by the writs. “Cute trick you got there,” he said. “I’m thinking of suing.”

“Oh, don’t be a dog in the manger,” she replied, giving him a coy grin. She then slashed out at him, forcing him to release her to avoid the knives. “After all, can you do that?”

“I’ve faced worse,” he replied, dodging to one side. He was quick to let out another volley of webs, these to web her feet to the building. “Now, to return that loot you took.”

“What loot?” the woman replied, giving him a coy smirk.

For the first time, he realized that, indeed, the woman didn’t have a bag on her. No cases or pockets either, which seemed strange for a thief. “Alright, where’s the loot?” he asked.

The woman smirked. “I didn’t take anything, Einstein. It’s all back in the store.”

“Wait, if you didn’t take anything, then why did you break that store window?” Spider-Man asked, becoming confused both by the situation and the woman’s coy attitude.

She gave a sigh. “I suppose you’re just a brainless pretty-boy after all,” she replied. “I wanted to speak with you, genius.”

“Me?” This answer did not help Spider-Man’s state of confusion. “Why do you want to speak with me? I’m just going to hand you over to the police, you know?”

“You’ll want to rephrase that when you hear what I have to say,” the woman replied.

“Uh, I know there’s some weird rumors about me, lady,” Spider-Man said with an amount of annoyance in his voice, “but I’m one of the good guys here. I can’t let you just get away with robbery.”

“Not even if I can lead you to the bigger fish?” she asked with a slightly flirtatious tone. She reached out and stroked under his chin. “I’m pretty sure you’ll want what I know more than what I have.”

He didn’t trust her, but he still wanted to know what the heck she was talking about. “How big a fish are we talking?”

“Remember the bird man from last night?” She asked.

He cocked his head in response. “You’re partner?”

She gave a snort. “Hardly. We just happen to have similar tastes.”

“Well, if he’s not your partner, then who is he?” Spider-Man asked.

“I’m so glad you asked, handsome,” she replied. Reaching into a pocket in her suit, she pulled out a smart device, not unalike a smart phone. “He’s called the Vulture, and he’s a notorious tech thief.”

“I remember hearing about him,” Spider-Man stated. “From back before I even started web slinging.”

The woman gave a nod. “I should hope so. He’s been active in his work ever since I was at my senior prom.”

“So that was the Vulture, huh?” he asked, pulling up the image of the masked man from the night before. “Somehow I envisioned him as being more…bird-like.”

“The name refers to his target of choice,” she explained. “He’s a tech-vulture; takes whatever tech he can get, both in good state and broken down, and sells it on the black market. As it happens, I was able to put a tracker on his device, which should lead us to his nest.”

“You know where he is?” Spider-Man asked.

She gave a nod. “Mh-hm. Now, can you be a good little spider and let me lead you there?”

Spider-Man gave a huff. He didn’t like the idea of letting her go that easily, as there was a high chance that, even if she was telling the truth, she would just slip away before he could do anything. Still, the opportunity to stop a larger thief who had been active and operating since before Spider-Man had come to be, was too big an opportunity to be missed.

“You’ll show me where he is,” Spider-Man said, “then I turn _both_ of you in.”

“You’ll turn him in, you’ll only try with me,” she replied, giving a coy smirk before cutting the webbing at her foot. “Now, shall we get a move on?”

As he watched her slip over the edge of the building, Spider-Man had to hurry so as not to lose sight. _I really hope I don’t come to regret this,_ he thought to himself.

He shot out a web and expected to have to catch her to web-swing the two of them to their destination, but to his shock, she was able to keep up with his movements by running along the outcroppings on the buildings, utilizing her claws when hand or foot holds were not available.

“Say, you know who I am,” he called out as they moved, “but I can’t say I have the honor of knowing who you are.”

“And it will stay that way,” the woman replied. “You can call me Black Cat, though.”

“Black, huh? Seems a bit ironic,” he stated, motioning to her hair.

“The name comes from how much luck you’ll have crossing me,” Cat responded before leaping around a sharp corner.

Spider-Man was unable to follow at such a sharp turn, and he was forced to slow himself and circle back, which meant he only just spotted her again before she turned another corner. _Oh, yeah,_ he thought to himself. _I am so going to regret this._

They traveled for a good distance, moving away from the shops and work places to an area that mostly had factories and warehouses. It was to a particularly dark, run down warehouse that Black Cat finally came to a stop at before pulling out her tracker. “We’re here,” she said, motioning for Spider-Man to follow her. “Come on.”

They slipped down into the building, keeping to the upper realms of the roof and in the shadows, so no one who happened to be moving through would notice them. However, as they moved inside, they found out the building was empty, except for a few piles covered in tarps.

“What?” Black Cat said, looking around in confusion. “I don’t understand. This is where the tracker says they went.”

“And it looks like they did come here,” Spider-Man stated. He moved to one tarp and removed it, revealing the now-empty truck. “They were expecting you.”

Inside the truck bed lay the tracking device, still active, and next to it was a note. _Nice try, Kitty-Cat. V._

“V, as in Vulture,” Spider-Man stated as he picked up the note.

Black Cat was not pleased with the development. “Spare me the Sesame Street,” she said with a huff. “But it’s no matter. We’ll still find him.”

“Wait,” Spider-Man called out, “you’re still going to turn yourself in.”

“Really?” Black Cat gave him a look of mingled annoyance and amusement. “And why would that be?”

“Because it’s the right thing to do,” he stated firmly.

She gave a snort. “The right thing to do? Please, no one does the right thing anymore. The best you can do is watch out for yourself in a way that doesn’t hurt too many people.”

“I intend to do what’s right,” Spider-Man stated, webbing her arm as he spoke. “And that includes turning over thieves.”

She looked at the web and gave a look of contempt. “Boy scout. You’re just lucky you’re cute.” She slipped in close to him, and he braced himself, ready to catch up to her if she ran. Instead, she reached over, stroking his face and giving him a coy grin.

“You need to return what you took,” he stated, still trying to sound firm and not distracted by her flirting, though that was difficult. “If you try to run, I will bring you in.”

Black Cat, however, made no such move. “Well, I’m sorry you see it that way,” she replied. “I, however, have to have a word with Peter Parker, and I can’t do that from jail.” A small nozzle opened in her glove, and as it was close to his mouth and nose, it released a noxious-smelling gas. A mixture of shock from hearing his true name and distress from the left him gasping, trying to clear his head and focus on what he could do. When he could finally focus and breathe again, she had slipped away leaving no trace of having ever been there.

 _Nice job, Parker, that’s two for two,_ Spider-Man scolded himself. _Well, at least this wasn’t a total waste. I can use that not to track handwriting, and she left behind the tracker, which may give me more information._ Scooping up the evidence, he swung off to stash it away and continue the night’s patrol. _Still,_ he thought with some anxiety, _what did she mean by needing a word with Peter Parker? I’ll have to be cautious tomorrow._

 _Well,_ he couldn’t help but think to himself with a laugh, _more cautious than normal._

* * *

 

The next day was the first day that the lab would be open for set up, though it wouldn’t be open officially for work for another week. That meant that the building would be running under the conditions to allow for the setup of equipment.

That meant that Peter had plenty of work on his hands, helping to bring in the larger pieces of equipment and bolting them down for later use. It meant that he was very busy, but having something productive to do felt pretty good.

“Any place you want this?” he asked Anna Maria as he came in with a cart carrying her exam bed.

“Yeah, just put it over there in the corner,” she instructed. “Near the electrical outlets. Be careful where you set that up, though; there might not be enough room to move it once the privacy dividers are set up.”

“In the corner, near the sockets, don’t block anything,” he repeated with a nod before moving in to set things up.

“Exactly,” she replied approvingly. “So, Peter, how have you been settling in? Any luck on finding your aunt yet?”

“Not yet,” he answered. “At this rate, I’m starting to suspect she’s not even in the city anymore.”

“Don’t give up quite yet, Slick,” Anna consoled. “You’ll find her, and I’m sure she’ll be overjoyed to see you again.”

“I hope so,” Peter stated, moving the bed so that it fit near a set of cabinets that had already been set in place. He gave a dry laugh. “It’s been four years, after all. Maybe she’s moved on and doesn’t need me anymore.”

To his surprise, when he said this, Anna Maria came over to him and patted his hand. “Trust me,” she said. “After you lose someone, you may move on, but you never stop needing them, if only for the memories you have of them.” She gave a sad smile. “I am 90% certain that if you aunt is still alive, she still needs you.”

“Now,” she said, and her voice became more chipper in a minute. “I need you, too; specifically, I’d like you to bring those privacy dividers in and start bolting them down.”

“Sure thing,” he said, hurrying towards the entrance.

As he passed through the divider to the main antechamber at the front of the room, he ran into Mrs. Octavius. “Peter, can I have a word with you for a moment?”

“Sure,” he said, coming over to her. “What is it?”

“I need to warn you,” she stated, “you might want to stay unnoticed for a while.”

“That’s pretty much the plan,” he said. “Why?”

Rosie paused for a moment before going on. “Lately, we’ve been getting calls asking for you. As in…” she paused for a moment before quieting her voice. “As in for Peter Parker.”

Hearing this, Peter froze for a moment. The idea that Warren or the man he had been working for might have figured out where he was hiding had struck him before, but he had initially calmed down when no further attacks were made. The idea that someone knew, but were only making calls was…confusing, to say the least.

“Have they told you who they are?” he asked. His mind went back to Black Cat and her mysterious comments about wanting to speak with Peter Parker.

“There’s two of them,” Rosie answered, “but only one will tell us her name. The first was some man with a loud voice. He said he was speaking on the behalf of a news station, but that was all the more reason not to deal with them. The other one was a woman named Felicia Hardy; she’s called twice saying she was a private investigator and was looking into your disappearance. We haven’t told either of them anything.”

“Thank you,” Peter stated. “I’m sorry that you’ve had to deal with this.”

“It’s nothing that hurts us, personally,” Rosie replied, making a dismissing motion with her hand. “It’s you I’m concerned about. If these people are really so obsessed with finding you that they’ll hire a media outlet and a private investigator in such close succession, I wouldn’t be surprised one bit if they’ll go farther. As I said before, you might want to keep indoors for a bit.”

“I’ll keep my head down,” he stated. “Now, I’ll need to go get something for Anna Maria.”

Rosie nodded. “Of course.” She then moved out of his way, allowing Peter to move through to claim the dividers.

When he made it back into the lab, he started setting up the walls, building up a space where medical procedures could be done in relative privacy. He had only gotten a few screws into place when his spider-sense warned him that someone was coming up behind him.

The silence that the newcomer approached in, mixed with all the tension of the recent events, was enough to put Peter on so much edge that he jumped out of his skin when they clapped a hand on his should with a hearty, “Hey, Pete!”

“Gah!” he exclaimed, spinning around to face the newcomer. “Grady, you just about gave me a heart attack!”

“Oh, sorry about that,” Grady replied. He had a giant fast food bag in one hand, which he held up. “They were selling tacos a dollar a piece, so I picked up lunch. You want one?”

Peter was mildly annoyed by the startling arrival, but he was also hungry. “Fine,” he said. “Just no hot sauce.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Grady assured him. He wandered over to a table that had been set up and put the bag down. “Bella doesn’t like spicy things, either, so half are mild.”

“You always remember,” Bella said as she wandered to join them. She patted his shoulder. “I can’t thank you enough.”

Grady beamed at the praise. “Of course I wouldn’t forget a lunch order.”

“You’ve forgotten mine on several occasions,” Sanjani commented.

“In my defense,” Grady argued, “your orders tend to be way too complicated.”

“So I guess a well-done veggie burger on rye bread with two and a half tablespoons Thousand Island dressing on a bun that’s been toasted for exactly three minutes served with sweet potato fries that have no salt is too difficult,” she responded with an eye roll.

Grady responded likewise before turning to Peter. “So, did you figure out how the chemical base will work with the circulation system?”

Peter nodded. “I’ve got it, but it’s going to provide a little work around to make sure the base chemicals don’t erode the inner workings.”

“Okay,” Anna Maria said, stepping in as she took one of the tacos as well, “mind to tell us what this is about before we assume you’re making some sort of super weapon?”

“Oh, Pete just helped me to come up with our next project,” Grady replied before taking a bite of taco. “A cryo-generation system that should allow for the transport of frozen organic material without the risk of having the tissue killed in transport. I’m finishing up the design specs so we can turn it in for approval.”

“Wait, our project?” Peter asked, both delighted to be included and anxious about his anonymity at the same time.

“Sure, ours,” Grady said with a grin. “You helped me to come up with it, and all the chemical work is yours, after all.”

“I think I see what Peter’s saying,” Bella stated. “Do you really think it’s prudent to call attention to him? At least while all these…potential issues are around.”

Grady paused for a moment with a taco halfway to his mouth. “Huh, I hadn’t thought of that.” His face screwed up for a moment as he thought. “I guess we’ll have to mark you as anonymous, with a pseudonym.”

“You can do that?” Peter asked, somewhat surprised by the revelation.

“Sure, Oscorp does it all the time,” Bella responded. “A lot of the developments put out have anonymous designers, provided whatever it is they make can’t be weaponized.”

“That’s so the government can make sure there’s no H-bomb being made in some lab’s basement,” Grady added.

“So, you guys are working on a project?” Anna Maria asked. “That’s great! I’m glad to see the loss of teleporters didn’t cripple you.”

“What, me? Get crippled?” Grady gave a laugh. “Sure, it was kind of depressing to lose the project, but I’m not the type to sit on my rear and do nothing. In fact, I already had four written up!”

“Then why are you going with a new design instead of one of them?” Sanjani snarked.

“For your information, I was going to,” Grady replied. He gave a huff. “It’s just that most of them were ahead of their time.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Bella said, eager to cut the tension before a full-blown argument started up. “What matters is that there is a new project, and hopefully one the board will approve of.”

While they were talking, a sharp buzz went through Peter’s skull. Something was coming, something dangerous, but not a ridiculous threat like last time. Still, he wasn’t going to take any chances. “Get down!” he called out, ducking down.

“What do you-gah!” Anna-Maria called out, and she and the others were forced to dodge down as a human figure jumped in through an opened window.

The Black Cat had swung into the building through an opened window and landed on the same side of the table as Peter. “I need a word with you,” she stated. She moved fast, grabbing him and binding his hands together with tape. She then looped his arms around her neck and took off, leaping up the walls and out the way she came with him in tow.

Of course, Peter could have broken free if he had wanted to, but that would require revealing his strength in front of multiple people he didn’t want to be privy to that information. Thus, he played the helpless captive card. “Please, not so high, not so high—iieee!” he called out, pretending to be afraid.

The others just watched for a moment, not sure how to react. It was Grady who responded first. “Come on, we gotta keep up with them!”

Sanjani crossed her arms. “What? What are we supposed to do?”

Anna Maria shook her head as she and Bella followed Grady. “He’s right. If she’s working for the freaks who are after Pete, he’s going to need help.”

“What…oh, ugh, fine.” Sanjani groaned before hesitantly following the others. “There’s no way this is going to end well.”

To be continued…


End file.
